ELIZABETH  PHIPPS  TRAIN 


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MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 


BY   ELIZABETH    PHIPPS  TRAIN 

A  SOCIAL  HIGHWAYMAN 

THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  PROFESSIONAL 
BEAUTY 

A  MARITAL   LIABILITY 

ISSUED     IN     THE     LOTOS      LIBRARY 

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MADAM    OF 
THE    IVIES 


BY 


Elizabeth  Phipps  Train 


PHILADELPHIA  &  LONDON 
J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1898 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
NATIONAL   PRESS  AGENCY,  LIMITED 

Copyright,  1898,  by 
J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


Madam  of  the  Ivies 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  WANTED  — A  young  woman  to  perform  the  cus 
tomary  duties  of  companion  to  an  elderly  lady.  To  a 
person  of  the  requisite  qualifications,  willing  to  live  in 
strict  retirement,  a  liberal  salary  and  comfortable  home 
are  offered.  References  required. — Apply  to  M.  H. 
E.,  The  Ivies,  Eldon." 

T  READ  the  above  advertisement  aloud  to 
my  mother  in  a  voice  that  trembled 
somewhat,  notwithstanding  all  my  efforts  to 
render  it  calm  and  even. 

"  Here  it  is,  mother  dear,"  I  said,  with  a 
foolish  little  laugh  that  meant  nothing,  and 
yet  concealed  much.  "  I  have  searched  long 
enough  for  it,  in  all  conscience." 

"  For  what,  my  dear?"  my  mother  asked, 
with  innocent  surprise  in  her  pretty,  faded 
blue  eyes. 


on/*  <-*on,r? 

i<»  <-  *•  \JIL  'O  v  >  ^.;  O 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

"  For  a  response  to  the  various  appeals  I 
have  made  to  the  future,"  I  replied.  She 
looked  bewilderment  itself. 

"  You  mean ?"  she  began,  and  paused 

in  helpless  perplexity. 

"  I  mean  that  those  few  lines  that  I  have 
just  read  to  you  represent  the  only  attention 
that  Fate  has  ever  vouchsafed  to  my  in 
cessant  applications  for  assistance  in  un 
ravelling  the  tangled  thread  of  my  destiny," 
I  answered,  in  a  tone  of  solemn  signifi 
cance. 

"  But  I  don't  see,  Dorothy " 

"  No,  of  course  you  don't,  you  unsuper- 
stitious  little  soul !"  I  cried,  with  a  laugh  that 
was  really  now  the  proper  thing,  the  precious 
little  woman's  utter  lack  of  comprehension 
was  so  genuine  and  amusing.  "  You  were 
born  a  generation  too  early  for  endowment 
with  all  the  marvellous  psychical  gifts  which 
are  the  birthright  of  my  era.  We  of  this 
age  can  look  into  the  future  as  well  as  divine 
the  thoughts  of  our  fellows,  and  in  this  bit 
of  typographical  matter  I  can  see  what  life 
holds  in  store  for  me  as  if  I  were  at  the  end 

6 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

instead  of  the  beginning  of  existence.  I  see 
Kismet  written  all  over  this  advertisement, 
where  you  see  but  the  expressed  needs  of  a 
fellow-mortal." 

She  still  looked  dubious  and  uncertain. 

"  What  is  it  you  mean?"  she  asked,  a  lit 
tle  impatiently  for  her. 

Her  want  of  sympathy  with  my  mood 
somewhat  sobered  and  steadied  it.  Mother 
and  daughter  as  we  were,  loving  each  other 
fondly  though  we  did,  we  were  of  such  ab 
solutely  contrasting  natures  and  tempera 
ments  that  we  rarely  understood  each  other 
by  intuition ;  we  never  fully  entered  into 
each  other's  joys  and  sorrows.  I  went  over 
to  the  low  chair  where  she  sat  with  her  sew 
ing  lying  idle  in  her  lap,  and  knelt  down 
beside  her.  I  took  her  small  hands,  worn 
with  much  labour  and  ceaseless  industry,  into 
mine,  and  raised  an  earnest  and  serious  face 
to  hers. 

"  Dearest,"  I  said,  "  you  are  going  to  be 
annoyed  with  me  again  ;  you  are  going  to 
feel  again  that  you  have  just  cause  to  con 
sider  me  foolish  and  inconsequent.  Forgive 

7 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

me  first,  and  then  I  will  explain  what  cause 
there  is  for  your  pardon." 

She  smiled  indulgently  at  me,  for,  indeed, 
she  was  never  very  fierce  even  in  her  most 
intolerant  moods,  and,  leaning  forward,  she 
kissed  me  lightly  on  the  brow. 

The  touch  of  her  lips  almost  undid  me, 
there  seemed  such  a  suggestion  of  finality  in 
the  caress.  It  was  as  if  she  were  giving 
sanction  to  my  own  thought,  that  I  was 
about  to  pass  for  ever  from  close  and  inti 
mate  contact  with  herself,  the  familiar,  if 
uncomprehending,  companion  of  this  first 
chapter  of  my  life,  which  I  felt  was  swiftly 
nearing  its  conclusion.  I  drew  in  my  breath 
sharply  to  restrain  threatening  emotion,  and 
obeyed  her  injunction  to  proceed  with  my 
explanation. 

"  Mother,"  I  began,  "  you  will  say  that  it 
is  only  one  of  my  ridiculous  fancies  when  I 
tell  you  that  I  have  an  impression,  which 
amounts  to  conviction,  that  some  strange  tie 
is  already  forming  itself  between  me  and  this 
lady  of  the  initials  who  needs  a  companion. 
It  is  no  chance  that  has  brought  her  necessity 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

to  my  knowledge  ;  it  is  the  natural  action  of 
that  subtle  agency  which  governs  our  lives. 
I  can  almost  hear  this  woman  calling  me  to 
her  side  ;  I  feel  that  she  has  long  been  wait 
ing  for  me  ;  I  long  to  share  her  4  strict  retire 
ment'  ;  I  feel  the  mysterious  bond  that  exists 
between  us  tightening  itself  and  abridging 
the  distance  that  parts  us.  I  shall  reply  at 
once  to  her  cry  for  companionship,  which  I 
know  to  be  a  summons  directed  at  me  alone 
of  all  the  world,  and  when  the  doors  of  The 
Ivies  open  to  me,  as  open  they  surely  will, 
they  will  receive  within  them,  not  a  tempo 
rary  guest,  but  a  lifelong  inmate,  who  shall 
finally  leave  them  only  to  enter  upon  a  new 
sphere  of  existence  which  baffles  the  re 
searches  of  even  the  most  advanced  psy 
chics." 

I  tried  to  round  out  my  period  with  an 
other  laugh,  but  the  attempt  was  a  wretched 
failure.  My  voice  broke,  I  slid  quite  down 
upon  the  floor  at  my  mother's  side,  and  burst 
into  a  really  hysterical  fit  of  weeping,  which, 
better  than  any  verbal  appeal,  deprecated  the 
maternal  resentment,  for  the  thin,  worn,  lov- 
9 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

ing  hand  quickly  stole  forward  and  rested 
soothingly  upon  my  head. 

"  Why,  Dorothy,  Dorothy  love,  what  is 
it  ?  There — there  !  What  ails  my  child  to 
night  *?"  And  my  downcast  head  was  raised 
from  its  position  and  tenderly  pillowed  on 
the  loving  breast  which  had  been  its  earliest 
resting-place.  For  a  while  I  let  it  remain 
there,  for  it  was  borne  in  upon  me,  in  that 
strange  prophecy  of  spirit  which  had  come 
upon  me,  that  not  often  in  the  days  to  come 
would  it  recover  that  dear  place  of  repose. 
Yet,  inexplicable  as  it  may  seem,  the  attitude 
vaguely  constrained  me,  and  I  was  glad  after 
a  brief  assumption  of  it  to  withdraw  from 
it ;  for,  even  then,  scarcely  five  minutes  since 
I  had  learnt  of  the  existence  of  such  a  per 
son  as  this  lady  of  The  Ivies,  I  felt  myself 
rather  of  her  world  than  of  my  accustomed 
one,  and  was  conscious  of  a  dawning  but 
forceful  aloofness  from  an  environment  to 
which  I  had  become  habituated  by  necessity 
rather  than  through  accord  of  sympathy. 

There  would  be  little  use  in  my  making 
comment  upon,  or  attempting  explanation 


10 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

of,  the  singular  and,  to  my  mother  and  mat 
ter-of-fact  married  sister  Marion,  provoking 
vein  of  subtle  influence  which  ran  through 
my  nature,  frequently  and  irresistibly  deter 
mining  me  in  a  choice  of  ways  incompati 
ble  with  what  they  considered  the  dictates 
of  good  judgment  and  sober  common  sense. 
It  is  an  element  of  character  or  tempera 
ment  too  metaphysical  in  its  nature  for  my 
analysis,  but  it  has  done  my  mental  balance 
much  injury  in  the  estimation  of  those  who 
are  nearest  me  in  blood,  and  has  placed  me 
without  the  bar  in  the  matter  of  family 
councils.  That  my  intuitions  have  generally 
proved  correct  weighs  little  against  the  fact 
that  they  are  wholly  spontaneous  and  formed 
without  logical  sequence,  for  my  kindred  are 
as  rational  in  drawing  their  conclusions  as  I 
am  unreasonable.  As  I  sprang  to  my  feet, 
determined  to  regain  my  self-poise,  my 
mother  sank  back  upon  her  seat  with  a 
little  sigh,  which  I  knew  indicated  a  silent 
protest  against  this  weakness  that  threatened 
my  mentality. 

"  Have  you  already  seen  this  lady,  Dor- 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

othy*?"  she  asked,  hoping,  perhaps,  to  find 
me  not  so  much  at  fault  as  she  anticipated. 

"  Never,"  I  replied,  uncompromisingly. 
"  She  is  personally  as  unknown  to  me  as  to 
you ;  and  yet,"  I  concluded,  dreamily,  "  I 
fancy  she  is  no  stranger  to  me." 

"  You  have  heard  of  her  by  report,  then  *?" 

"  Not  even  in  the  vaguest  fashion." 

"  Dorothy,  Dorothy  !"  shaking  her  head  in 
expostulation  and  foreboding  ;  "  you  will  end 
in  a  madhouse  if  you  encourage  yourself  in 
your  dangerous  proclivities." 

I  laughed. 

"  Not  I,"  I  returned,  with  provoking  se 
renity  ;  "  I  have  just  told  you  that  I  am  to 
end  my  days  at  The  Ivies." 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  apply  for  the  po 
sition  ?" 

"  I  really  mean  to  assume  the  position." 

"  Dorothy,  do  stop  jesting,  child,  and  ex 
plain  to  me  what  your  intentions  regarding 
this  advertisement  actually  are." 

I  saw  that  she  was  becoming  annoyed  by 
the  tone  of  flippancy  beneath  which  I  was 
trying  to  shield  a  cowardly  purpose  that  did 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

not  quite  dare  declare   itself,  and  so  came 
boldly  forth  from  behind  my  cover. 

"  Mother,"  I  said,  standing  straight  before 
her,  with  resolution,  which  she  must  have 
seen  it  would  be  useless  to  seek  to  vanquish, 
written  all  over  my  face,  "  I  have  not  been 
talking  so  idly  and  wildly  as  you  imagine. 
You  know,  although  you  wholly  disapprove 
of  the  habit,  that  I  am  apt  to  form  my 
determinations  while  you  and  Marion  are 
listening  to  the  exposition  of  a  subject. 
You  know,  also,  though  you  will  not  admit 
it,  that  my  instincts  are  rarely  at  fault.  Now, 
here  is  a  matter  which  will  allow  me  to  prove 
beyond  peradventure  the  validity  of  my  in 
tuitions.  I  have  never  in  my  life  heard  of 
this  lady  whose  advertisement  I  have  just 
read ;  I  do  not  know  whether  she  is  old  or 
young,  rich  or  poor,  amiable  or  the  reverse ; 
I  do  not  know  anything  about  Eldon,  or 
where  it  may  be  situated ;  but,  so  sure  am  I 
that  from  the  beginning  of  my  life  it  was 
ordained  that  I  am  to  spend  the  major  part 
of  my  existence  within  its  boundaries,  intro 
duced  to  its  neighbourhood  by  the  require- 
13 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

ments  of  this  mysterious  M.  H.  E.,  that  to 
morrow  morning  I  shall  pack  up  all  your 
wealth  of  worldly  possessions  and  settle  them 
and  you  at  Marion's,  as  we  have  arranged  to 
do  in  event  of  my  obtaining  a  position,  and 
in  the  afternoon  I  shall  gather  together  my 
own  goods  and  chattels  and  depart  for  Eldon, 
wherever  it  may  be,  intending  to  be  settled 
before  nightfall  as  companion  for  life  to  the 
lady  who  has  expressed  her  need  of  me." 

My  poor  mother  regarded  me  in  helpless 
amazement.  Once  she  opened  her  lips  as  if 
to  speak,  doubtless  in  remonstrance,  but, 
thinking  better  of  it,  she  closed  them  again, 
contenting  herself  with  a  silent  shake  of  the 
head,  which  suggested  all  sorts  of  dire  con 
sequences  to  the  course  of  action  I  was  bent 
on  pursuing.  This  tacit  admission  on  her 
part  of  the  futility  of  argument  or  expostu 
lation  struck  me  so  irresistibly  that  I  could 
not  but  laugh  as  I  stooped  over  her  and 
sought  to  win  her  compliance  by  caresses. 

"  Don't  think  so  badly  of  me,  dear,"  I  said. 
"  It  will  all  come  out  right,  never  fear.  I  will 
prove  my  right  to  be  governed  by  impulse." 
14 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

My  mother  was  of  a  yielding  nature,  ac 
customed  to  submit  to  the  stronger  forces  to 
which  she  had  given  birth.  She  shunned 
responsibility  of  every  sort,  and  it  was  char 
acteristic  of  her  to  act  in  matters  of  moment 
as  she  did  now  ;  that  is,  to  avoid  committing 
herself  to  any  direct  line  of  action  by  allow 
ing  others  to  decide  for  her,  contenting  her 
self  with  the  assertion  that  she  washed  her 
hands  of  the  whole  business,  and  that,  what 
ever  befell,  she  could  not  be  held  accountable 
for  bringing  it  about. 

Twenty-four  hours  later  I  had  accom 
plished  my  resolve,  and  had  written,  with 
trembling  but  determined  ringers,  "  Finis"  to 
the  prologue  of  my  life's  drama.  Urged  by 
that  potent  but  inexplicable  influence  which 
was  so  wont  to  direct  me,  I  had  resolutely 
snapped  the  link  that  bound  me  to  my  de 
pendent  girlhood  by  establishing  my  mother 
in  her  married  daughter's  comfortable  home, 
and,  having  thus  burnt  my  ships  behind  me, 
I  found  myself  confronted  with  the  prospect 
of  a  journey  into  a  strange  land  of  promise, 
with  no  compass  to  direct  my  future  steps 
'5 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

save  the  few  printed  characters  on  the  bit  of 
paper  slipped  under  the  palm  of  my  glove 
for  ready  reference  ;  with  no  guide-book  to 
inform  me  of  what  nature  and  habits  were 
the  people  with  whom  I  purposed  dwelling ; 
with  no  surety  of  attaining  the  goal  for 
which  I  was  striving  except  a  moral  cer 
tainty  bred  within  my  own  breast,  at  whose 
authenticity  I  was  aware  all  save  myself 
would  scoff  and  sneer. 

My  efforts  in  my  mother's  behalf  occupied 
the  greater  part  of  the  next  day,  and  I  found 
that  the  first  train  to  Eldon  that  I  should  be 
free  to  take  was  one  that  left  New  York  at 
four-fifteen  in  the  afternoon.  It  may  show 
my  faith  in  what  my  family  were  wont  to 
call  my  superstitions  to  say  that,  so  sure  was 
I  that  I  should  not  require  one,  I  did  not  even 
concern  myself  to  look  up  a  return  train. 

But,  as  I  was  being  whirled  through  a 
barren  and  desolate  landscape  in  the  chill 
dreariness  of  a  February  twilight,  my  inner 
ally,  that  unrecognisable  "  encourager  of 
hesitancy,"  somewhat  deserted  me,  and  left 
me  a  prey  to  a  sudden  despondency,  and  to 

16 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

miserable  doubts  and  reflections  as  to  whether 
I  had  indeed  done  altogether  wisely  to  per 
mit  myself  to  be  so  uncompromisingly  di 
rected  by  mere  impulse.  For  a  brief  while 
I  abandoned  myself  to  actual  self-torture,  in 
flicting  upon  my  quaking  heart  all  manner 
of  wretched  forebodings  and  baleful  pre 
dictions,  and  reproaching  myself  bitterly  for 
the  precipitancy  of  my  conduct.  Then, 
recognising  the  danger  of  losing  hope  and 
courage  when  self-control  and  assurance  were 
my  chief  stock-in-trade,  I  drew  forth  the  tiny 
advertisement  and  fortified  my  sinking  soul 
with  its  perusal.  Truly  there  was  some 
witchery  about  the  crumpled  thing,  for  no 
sooner  had  my  eyes  fallen  upon  it  than  the 
subtle  essence  of  hope  and  cheer  again  crept 
through  my  veins,  bringing  renewed  boldness 
and  conviction  to  my  spirit. 

I  was  still  under  the  sway  of  this  brighter 
mood  when  there  came  a  perceptible  slack 
ening  in  the  speed  of  the  train,  the  brake- 
man's  voice  rang  out  in  accents  which  only 
an  expectant  ear  could  have  discovered  to  con 
ceal  the  announcement  of  "  Eldon,  Eldon  !" 

2  '7 


and  almost  before  I  was  conscious  of  move 
ment  I  found  myself  standing  on  the  station 
platform,  companioned  by  but  one  other 
passenger,  a  tall  man  wrapped  in  a  heavy 
ulster,  which  gave  a  burly  outline  to  his 
figure,  watching  with  longing  eyes  the  swift 
retreat  of  what  I  felt  to  be  my  last  friend,  the 
onward-speeding  train,  that  seemed  abandon 
ing  me  in  noisy  defection  to  a  lonely  and 
unknown  fate. 

I  think  I  might  have  been  standing  there 
now,  wrapped  in  the  homesick  misery  that 
seemed  to  envelop  me,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
consideration  of  my  fellow-passenger.  Later 
I  learnt  why  he  had  been  induced,  to  cast 
aside  conventional  restraint  and  address  me. 
It  was  because  I  appeared  to  stand  so  alone 
and  unprotected  in  that  dismal  wintry  dusk, 
he  said ;  a  man  with  any  spark  of  chivalry 
in  him  would  have  risked  long  odds  in  the 
way  of  resentment  of  his  conduct  rather 
than  miss  an  opportunity  of  being  of  service 
to  a  damsel  so  obviously  "  all  forlorn."  I 
laughed,  with  a  warm  reserve  of  appreciation 
deep  down  in  my  heart,  nevertheless,  when, 

18 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

some  months  after,  David  Spencer  told  me 
this ;  but  at  the  moment  mirth  had  no  place 
in  my  emotions. 

"  Can  I  be  of  service,  madam  *?"  That 
was  the  welcome  question  which  formed  my 
greeting  to  Eldon,  and  so  gravely  and  solici 
tously  was  it  uttered  that  no  thought  of  im 
pertinence  could  possibly  be  associated  with 
it. 

I  turned  gratefully. 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  I  said.  "  If  I  could 

find  a  carriage  of  any  sort "  and  I  looked 

about  the  deserted  place  with  doubtful  glance. 

"  Of  course,"  he  assented.  "  There  is  one 
here ;  it  stands  behind  the  station.  May  I 
secure  it  for  you  *?" 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  will  not  trouble  you. 
If  it  is  here  I  can  doubtless  find  it,  and" — 
with  a  smile  at  the  emptiness  of  the  place — 
"  I  should  not  think  there  was  danger  of  its 
being  engaged." 

At  that  moment  the  station-master  made 

his  appearance,  and  as  I  gave  him  the  check 

for  my  trunk — for  I  had  even  gone  the  length 

of  bringing  it  with  me — he  touched  his  hat 

'9 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

to  my  companion  with  a  "  Good  evening, 
doctor,"  while  the  latter,  with  a  courteous 
salutation,  moved  away  and  disappeared 
round  the  corner  of  the  station. 

"  I  wish  to  go  to  The  Ivies  ;  is  there  a  con 
veyance  here  that  can  also  carry  my  trunk  ?" 
I  asked. 

My  companion  looked  at  me  with  visible 
interest,  not  to  say  curiosity. 

"  The  Ivies  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Is  Madam 
expecting  you  *?" 

I  was  annoyed  at  what  I  considered  un 
warrantable  curiosity. 

"  That  is  neither  here  nor  there,"  I  re 
plied,  haughtily.  "  What  I  wish  to  know  is 
whether  or  not  the  carriage  in  waiting  here 
can  accommodate  my  trunk." 

The  fellow  had  decent  manners.  He 
again  raised  his  hat,  and  remarked,  with  an 
apologetic  air, — 

"  I  only  asked,  miss,  because  I  thought 
Madam  would  be  sending  for  you  if  she 
knew  you  was  comin'." 

"  She  does  not  know,"  I  answered,  mol 
lified  by  his  excuse. 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Then  I  don't  know  just  what  you'll  do," 
he  said.  "  It's  a  long  pull  to  walk,  and 
there  ain't  no  other  ways  of  gettin'  there  as 
I  knows  of." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked,  in  some 
dismay,  for  my  new  friend  might  after  all 
have  been  mistaken  as  to  the  carriage  behind 
the  station.  "  That  gentleman  whom  you 
called  doctor  assured  me  that  there  was  a 
conveyance  here." 

The  man  nodded. 

"  So  there  was,"  he  assented  ;  "  but  it  was 
one  he  had  ordered  for  himself." 

"  Are  you  sure  *?"  I  asked. 

"  Certain,"  he  replied.  "  He  lives  five 
mile  or  so  from  here,  does  Dr.  Spencer,  and 
he  always  has  a  carriage  from  the  Banks 
House  to  meet  him  when  he  comes  back 
from  a  trip  to  New  York." 

"  Nevertheless,"  I  said,  with  faith  in  the 
chivalry  of  the  man  who  had  offered  to 
assist  a  friendless  stranger,  "  I  think  I  shall 
find  that  carriage  still  waiting.  I  will 
look."  And  I  suited  the  action  to  the 
word. 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

As  I  turned  the  corner  of  the  building  I 
confess  my  heart  beat  rather  quickly,  for  it 
would  mean  much  to  me  if  my  hopes  were 
disappointed.  Besides,  I  fear  I  had  a  girl's 
natural  curiosity  as  to  the  extent  of  the  im 
pression  I  had  made  upon  this  casual  ac 
quaintance  ;  my  vanity  was  in  arms  to  dis 
cover  whether  it  had  been  of  sufficient  degree 
to  prevail  over  that  regard  for  his  own  crea 
ture  comforts  which  weighs  heavily  against 
the  inherent  instincts  of  courtesy  in  man. 
It  was  with  a  sigh  of  relief  and  a  thrill  of 
gratified  self-consciousness  that  I  perceived 
the  vehicle  still  standing  at  its  post. 

Still,  its  rightful  claimant  might  have 
ensconced  himself  within  it,  thinking  that 
we  could  both  share  its  capacious  bosom,  for 
it  was  a  veritable  ark,  cumbersome  and  anti 
quated,  but  a  welcome  place  of  refuge  all  the 
same.  Of  course,  if  such  should  prove  the 
fact,  I  should  be  in  as  bad  a  case  as  ever, 
for  it  was  not  likely  that  I  would  consent 
to  make  a  journey  in  the  dark,  shut  up  in 
a  carriage  with  an  unknown,  however  chiv 
alrous  man. 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

The  driver  was  standing  patiently,  or  rather 
doggedly,  by  his  horse,  and  him  I  accosted. 

"  Are  you  waiting  for  anyone  in  par 
ticular  ?"  I  asked. 

He  moved  forward  and  regarded  me  in 
quiringly. 

"  Doctor  said  there  was  a  lady "  he 

began. 

"  Yes ;  I  am  she.  But  the  doctor  had 
already  engaged  you,  had  he  not  *?" 

"  Yes.  But  doctor  said  that  warn't  no 
matter ;  he'd  walk." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  incommoded  him,"  I 
said,  mendaciously,  for  I  should  have  felt  far 
more  regret  to  have  been  obliged  to  accom 
modate  him.  "  Can  you  take  me  to  The 
Ivies  ?" 

An  expression  of  surprise,  similar  to  that 
I  had  seen  upon  the  station-master's  face, 
enlivened  the  driver's  stolid  countenance. 

"  The  Ivies  !"  he  ejaculated.  "  Is  Madam 
expecting  you  *?" 

This  repetition  of  the  other's  question  was 
so  significant  of  the  fact  that  visitors  were 
rarely  entertained  in  the  house  which  I  had 
23 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

already  come  to  look  upon  as  my  future 
home,  that  I  began  to  feel  that  I  purposed 
invading  a  place  of  isolation  and  exile.  I 
took  refuge  from  a  cold  reaction  that  was 
beginning  to  settle  about  the  region  of  my 
heart  in  sharp  rebuke. 

"  That  is  not  what  I  asked  you  !"  I  said  ; 
"  nor  can  I  see  that  it  in  any  way  concerns 
you.  All  I  require  of  you  is  to  take  me  and 
my  truflfc  thither.  Can  you  do  so  ?" 

The  man  nodded,  a  trifle  surlily. 

"  Guess  I  can,"  he  answered.  "  Where's 
the  trunk*?  I'll  fetch  it  if  you'll  get  in." 

A  few  moments  later  he  returned,  bearing 
the  trunk  upon  his  shoulder  and  accompanied 
by  the  station-master.  While  the  trunk  was 
being  strapped  upon  the  rack  behind  me,  I 
could  hear  the  two  men  conversing  in  low 
tones.  I  could  catch  occasional  words  which 
they  uttered,  but  the  full  dialogue  was  indis 
tinguishable.  I  gleaned  enough,  however, 
to  satisfy  me  that  my  appearance  and  desti 
nation  formed  the  topic  under  discussion,  and 
the  tone  of  both  voices  was  one  of  wonder 

and  surprise. 

24 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

Before  we  started,  the  station-master  pre 
sented  himself  at  the  door,  peering  with  un 
mistakable  curiosity  into  the  carriage. 

"  Hope  you  won't  think  I  meant  any 
offence,  miss,  just  now,"  he  said.  "  I  have 
too  high  a  respect  for  Madam  to  be  disre 
spectful  to  any  of  her  friends." 

I  felt  that  the  apology  was  largely  tentative, 
and  declined  rising  to  the  lure  couched  in  the 
word  "  friends."  Not  by  disclosing  the  fact 
that  I  had  no  personal  acquaintance  with  this 
"  Madam,"  or  by  asserting  in  what  capacity 
I  hoped  to  become  an  inmate  of  The  Ivies, 
would  I  lay  the  spirit  of  inquisitiveness  that 
I  had  inadvertently  aroused  in  the  man. 

"  Very  well,"  I  returned,  and  drew  to  the 
door.  A  minute  later  we  had  started  on  our 
way. 


CHAPTER   II. 

T  HAD  ample  time  for  reflection  as  we 
jogged  along.  It  seemed  to  me  that  we 
traversed  a  huge  section  of  country,  though 
I  have  since  learnt  that  not  more  than  six 
miles  intervened  between  the  Eldon  station 
and  The  Ivies.  But  my  excited  and  nervous 
condition  doubtless  made  me  impatient,  and 
for  that  reason  the  distance  appeared  twice 
its  real  length. 

Evening  had  quite  set  in,  and  the  dusk 
was  so  heavy  that  I  could  distinguish  little 
of  the  passing  landscape.  I  had  let  down 
one  of  the  windows,  and  the  wintry  air  came 
in  with  a  rawness  and  bleakness  which  seemed 
to  bespeak  a  high  altitude.  Then,  too,  the 
position  of  the  carriage  was  such  that  I  knew 
we  must  be  constantly  ascending,  and  I 
wondered  if  The  Ivies  were  perched  like  an 
eagle's  eyrie  on  a  mountain-top. 

Finally,  when  I  had  about  concluded  that 
26 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

the  drive  would  never  end,  the  carriage 
turned  abruptly  to  the  right,  and,  passing  be 
tween  two  high  granite  posts,  whose  grim 
outlines  stood  forth  like  shadowy  sentinels  in 
the  gloom,  we  entered  a  dark,  heavily-shaded 
avenue,  which  formed  a  considerable  interval 
between  gates  and  house. 

An  overwhelming  desire  to  learn  what  I 
could  of  these  close  surroundings  of  my  new 
home — for  so,  despite  my  occasional  lapses 
from  absolute  conviction,  I  still  confidently 
believed  my  destination  was  to  become — 
prompted  me  to  lean  far  out  of  the  window, 
and  challenge  the  more  pronounced  teatures 
of  the  landscape  to  reveal  themselves  to  my 
gaze. 

We  were  still  ascending,  more  gradually 
now,  however,  and  on  the  left,  through  spaces 
intervening  between  tall  and  heavily  com 
pacted  trees,  which  I  later  discovered  to  be 
poplars,  I  could  discern  a  steep  embankment, 
shelving  abruptly  down  from  the  road  along 
which  we  were  driving.  It  was  impossible 
to  determine  its  depth,  owing  to  the  obscurity 

of  the  fast-descending  night,  but  that  it  was 

27 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

considerable  I  divined  from  the  fact  that,  as 
we  passed  along  its  poplar-fringed  brink,  I 
saw,  quite  below  me,  the  dim  and  indistinct 
silhouette  of  what  appeared  to  be  either  a 
white  or  a  grey  house.  A  little  farther  on,  and 
the  always  moderate  pace  of  the  horse  de 
generated  into  a  walk,  and  then  into  a  mere 
pretence  of  movement ;  the  driver  called 
"  Whoa !"  in  a  subdued  tone,  in  harmony 
with  the  hush  that  pervaded  the  surround 
ings  ;  and  I  knew  that  I  had  reached  my 
place  of  destination,  and  that  The  Ivies,  in 
all  its  mystery  and  strangeness,  lay  before 
me. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  one  moment  of 
misgiving  and  trepidation  which  I  experienced 
while  the  driver  was  dismounting  from  his 
perch.  A  very  panic  of  irresolution  and 
diffidence  took  possession  of  my  being.  I 
scored  myself  for  a  rash  and  audacious  fool ; 
I  took  heed  of  all  the  remonstrances  which 
had  ever  been  directed  at  me  by  my  mother 
and  sister ;  I  shrank  like  a  timid  child  from 
the  indefinable  prospect  that  confronted  me  ; 

I  meditated  retreat,  ignominious  flight,  shame- 
28 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

faced  return  to  even  that  roof  beneath  which 
my  mother  had  sought  refuge,  and  where  I 
knew  that  my  abject  failure  would  meet  with 
scant  sympathy  and  copious  comments  of 
the  "  I  told  you  so"  variety.  Then  I  made 
a  supreme  effort  and  pulled  myself  resolutely 
together.  The  driver  opened  the  carriage 
door,  and  in  another  instant  I  found  myself 
standing  before  a  short  flight  of  broad  stone 
steps,  with  a  bearing  as  composed  and  assured 
as  if  I  had  never  known  a  qualm  or  scruple 
in  my  life.  No  sooner  had  my  foot  touched 
terra  firma  than  I  felt  myself  again  reassured 
by  that  strange,  mysterious  inner  conscious 
ness  that  I  was  being  directed  by  an  invisible 
agency  according  to  a  preordained  and  un 
erring  plan. 

As  I  paused  there  briefly,  surveying  with 
eyes  that  were  rather  contemplative  than 
curious  the  imposing  pile  of  stone  and  granite 
which  reared  its  huge  proportions  high  into 
the  darkness,  a  sense  of  well-being  and  rest- 
fulness  stole  soothingly  over  me ;  I  felt  that 
this  was  in  very  deed  home  that  I  had  come 
to ;  that  the  previous  conditions  of  my  life 
29 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

had  been  artificial  and  ill-adapted  ;  that  I 
had  heretofore  been  miscast  in  the  rdle  which 
had  been  given  me  to  play  ;  that  for  the  first 
time  since  my  birth  I  found  myself  properly 
circumstanced  and  congenially  disposed.  It 
was  a  most  singular  sensation  that  pervaded 
me ;  I  can  best  describe  it  as  one  of  calm 
and  peaceful  satisfaction,  as  an  intuitive  per 
ception  of  means  at  hand  to  gratify  vague 
longings  and  aspirations  which  had  up  to  the 
present  time  caused  me  to  appear  a  creature 
of  fitful  disposition  and  unsteady  purpose. 
I  felt  as  might  feel  an  animal  that  has  for 
years  been  exposed  to  a  false  element,  and 
that  finds  itself  suddenly  transferred  to  its 
proper  habitat. 

Yet  sober  common-sense  did  not  wholly 
abandon  me,  for  I  took  the  precaution  to 
order  the  man  to  allow  my  trunk  to  remain 
on  the  rack,  and  to  himself  await  my  reap 
pearance.  Then  I  mounted  the  steps  and 
rang  the  bell  with  steady  hand. 

A  most  intense  silence  seemed  to  envelop 
the  house  ;  even  my  summons  was  of  a  faint 
and  subdued  nature.  It  took  the  form  of  a 
30 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

sweet,  solemn,  silvery  tinkling,  as  of  a  fairy 
chime,  fading  with  minor  cadences  into  the 
distance.  One  could  almost  feel  how  rarely 
a  like  sound  disturbed  the  hush  and  repose 
of  the  dwelling.  Almost  directly  I  heard  a 
shuffling  step  approaching  from  within,  the 
door  was  softly  and  with  grave  ceremony 
thrown  open,  and  an  old  man  of  slight  stature 
and  feeble  frame  stood  before  me,  the  light 
of  a  bronze  hanging  lantern  above  the  en 
trance  illumining  with  startling  distinctness 
his  singularly  white  face  and  silvery  straggling 
locks.  In  his  hand  he  held  a  tiny  old-fash 
ioned  salver,  and  it  was  apparent  that  his 
custom  was  to  receive  upon  it  the  cards, 
without  admitting  the  persons,  of  such  stray 
visitors  as  should  seek  to  invade  the  retire 
ment  in  which  his  mistress  dwelt,  for,  scarce 
waiting  for  my  question  as  to  whether  she 
would  receive  me,  he  held  it  forth,  and,  still 
barring  my  entrance  with  his  small  person, 
said,  "  Mrs.  Eldredge  desires  to  be  ex 
cused." 

"  Will  you  tell  her,"  I  returned,  depositing 
my  card  in  the  small  receptacle,  "  that  I  am 
31 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

come  in  response  to  her  advertisement,  and 
say  that  as  I  have  travelled  from  a  distance 
I  hope  she  will  see  me,  unless  the  position 
be  already  filled." 

My  explanation  caused  him  to  take  a 
different  view  of  my  intrusion,  for  now  the 
door  was  thrown  hospitably  open,  and,  as  I 
obeyed  his  request  to  enter,  I  found  myself 
in  a  delightfully  quaint  old  hall,  with  high 
raftered  ceiling,  and  far  reaches  of  impene 
trable  gloom  which  bespoke  spacious  depths 
and  offered  a  wide  field  for  the  imagination. 

With  ancient  ceremony  the  aged  butler 
threw  open  the  door  of  a  small  reception- 
room,  standing  aside  for  me  to  pass  in,  but, 
fascinated  by  the  romantic  aspect  of  the 
wide  hall,  and  invited  to  linger  in  its  shadows 
by  the  cheery  blaze  of  a  huge  hickory 
log  that  burnt  in  the  cavernous  fireplace,  I 
smilingly  negatived  his  suggestion,  and 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  wait  where  I  was. 

He  was  absent  but  a  few  moments. 
Scarcely  had  I  become  penetrated  by  the 
welcome  warmth  of  the  fire  than  he  reap 
peared  and  desired  me  to  follow  him.  He  led 
32 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

the  way  up  a  broad  and  winding  staircase, 
whose  ascent  was  broken  by  two  or  three 
wide  landings,  each  a  small  room  in  itself,  and 
thence  across  a  large  upper  hall  fitted  as  a 
picture-gallery,  the  vast  dimensions  of  which 
were  broken  by  a  magnificently  carved  circu 
lar  balustrade,  brought,  as  I  afterwards  learnt, 
from  one  of  the  old  Doria  palaces,  which 
enclosed  a  great  well  that  reached  from  en 
trance-hall  to  roof,  where  an  enormous  sky 
light  of  stained  glass  shed  a  modified  glow 
upon  the  space  beneath. 

Daylight  having  quite  faded,  silver  sconces 
suspended  against  the  walls  gave  partial  and 
fitful  illumination  to  the  place,  the  candles 
shirking  their  actual  duty,  however,  to  co 
quet  among  the  brighter  surroundings  of  the 
gilded  frames  that  lined  the  mighty  stretches 
of  wall.  Rugs  innumerable  covered  the 
polished  oaken  floor,  and,  had  it  been  pos 
sible  for  the  noiseless  footstep  of  my  com 
panion  to  become  less  audible,  I  should  have 
thought  that  he  took  heed  to  so  stifle  it  as 
our  progress  increased.  We  paused  at  last 
before  a  closed  door,  upon  which  he  tapped 
3  33 


so  reverently  that  I  was  reminded  of  a  priest 
approaching  a  holy  shrine. 

A  low-toned,  exquisitely  modulated  voice 
gave  us  permission  to  enter.  The  old  ser 
vant  opened  the  door,  announced  me,  and 
immediately  withdrew,  leaving  me  in  the 
presence  of  a  woman,  the  charm  of  whose 
unusual  personality,  the  magnificence  of 
whose  matured  beauty,  rendered  me  wholly 
oblivious  of  her  environment. 

What  was  the  emotion  that  seized  upon 
me  as  my  eyes  first  fell  upon  Madam? 
Was  it  reverence,  awe,  timidity,  affright  at 
my  own  audacity  in  offering  myself  as  com 
panion  to  such  as  she?  Was  it  the  spell 
exercised  upon  inferior  natures  by  extraor 
dinary  strength  of  character  united  to  almost 
perfect  physical  form  *?  Was  it  fear  *?  Was 
it  alarm  *?  Or  was  it — was  it  not,  rather — 
the  birth-agony  of  a  love  unique  in  its 
nature,  passionate  in  its  intensity,  soul-en 
nobling  in  its  development,  which,  though  I 
have  known  warm  family  affection,  though 
I  have  felt  strong  attachment  to  two  or  three 
close  friends,  though  I  have  since  become  the 

34 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

proud  and  happy  wife  of  a  man  who  holds 
my  very  soul  in  his  keeping,  has  stood  apart 
and  aloof,  on  a  pinnacle  of  its  own,  elevated 
and  sanctified  beyond  all  the  other  emotions 
of  my  life  *? 

The  most  positive  memory  I  retain  of  that 
first  meeting  is  the  impression  produced  upon 
my  mind  by  Madam.  So  profound  was  that 
impression  that  in  seeking  to  recall  her  like 
ness  now,  since  her  visible  presence  has 
passed  from  before  my  eyes,  I  invariably 
picture  her  as  I  then  saw  her,  notwithstand 
ing  the  fact  that  in  after-days  I  formed  a  so 
much  better  acquaintance  with  her  features 
and  expression. 

My  mind,  harking  back  into  the  past, 
conjures  up  the  grandeur  of  a  solitary  figure, 
waiting,  in  patient,  silent  dignity,  like  a 
noble  statue,  among  the  ruins  of  a  shattered 
world.  Sculptured  as  by  an  artist's  hand 
directed  by  a  poet's  brain,  the  rare  contour 
of  her  face  was  classic  in  its  mould,  and 
superbly  intellectual  in  its  wondrous  beauty. 
Mind,  soul,  and  heart — the  trinity  of  man's 
personality — shone  through  the  lovely  mask 

35 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

that  disclosed,  rather  than  concealed,  her 
spiritual  being. 

She  was  sitting,  as  I  entered  in  obedience 
to  her  bidding,  in  a  high-backed  chair  of 
carved  ebony,  with  her  feet,  arched  like  those 
of  a  Spanish  princess,  resting  on  a  little  foot 
stool.  About  her  lay  folds  of  rich  black 
drapery,  unrelieved  by  any  touch  of  colour 
or  gleam  of  precious  metal.  One  ornament, 
if  so  it  might  be  called,  and  one  only,  she 
wore,  and  that  was  the  sole  jewel  I  ever  saw 
her  assume.  It  was  a  ring  of  gold  overlaid 
with  black  enamel,  and  set  with  a  single 
diamond  of  great  size  and,  doubtless,  of 
great  intrinsic  value.  It  was  her  engage 
ment  ring,  which,  upon  the  death  of  her 
husband,  she  had  had  encrusted  with  en 
amel,  and  this  was  held  secure  by  a  tiny 
guard  so  small  as  to  well-nigh  escape  obser 
vation,  the  symbol  of  her  marriage. 

She  must  have  been  at  that  time  about 
sixty  years  old,  although  she  had  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  greater  age.  This  was  due  to 
the  absolute  whiteness  of  her  still  luxuriant 
hair,  which  was  somewhat  hidden  from  sight 
36 


MADAM   OF   THE    IVIES 

by  a  coiffure  of  finest  black  lace,  that  looked 
like  an  enamelled  arabesque  traced  upon  sil 
ver.  Her  figure  was  tall,  commanding,  and 
very  erect ;  her  face  gentle,  and  filled  with 
the  pathos  of  supreme  suffering  and  self- 
renunciation  ;  her  manner  that  of  a  high 
bred  gentlewoman,  into  whose  mind  the 
reflection  that  she  is  a  being  superior  to  the 
meanest  of  those  about  her  has  never  ob 
truded.  Her  eyes — brown,  kindly,  and  wist 
ful — were  very  beautiful,  and  touched  one's 
deepest  sympathies  by  reason  of  a  strange 
look  of  appeal  that  lay  in  their  depths. 

As  the  servant  pronounced  my  name  she 
rose  from  her  chair,  and  extended  a  cordial 
hand  to  me,  saying,  in  a  slow,  gentle 
voice, — 

"  You  are  the  lady  who  has  volunteered 
to  consider  the  thought  of  sharing  my  soli 
tude1?  Will  you  not  come  close  to  the 
fire1?  You  must  be  chilled  from  your  long 
ride." 

She  motioned  to  a  chair  directly  facing 
her  own,  and  resumed  her  seat.  I  had 
touched  the  long,  fragile  fingers  with  devout 
37 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

reverence,  and,  still  standing  before  her,  made 
the  amende  for  my  presumptuous  appearance 
in  her  house. 

"  Madam,"  I  said,  "  I  had  the  temerity  to 
think  I  could  fulfil  your  requirements.  Par 
don  me  for  the  audacious  thought.  I  had 
not  at  that  time  seen  you,  and  was  unaware 
how  little  worthy  of  you  my  companionship 
would  be.  My  discovery  has  come  in  good 
season,  however,  and  I  beg  you  to  allow  me 
to  withdraw." 

There  was  great  regret  as  well  as  firm  con 
viction  in  my  voice.  My  disappointment 
was  as  intense  as  my  assurance  of  disquali 
fication.  I  longed  to  be  of  service  to  this 
woman ;  all  my  romantic  impulses  were 
stirred  by  the  perception  of  her  beauty  and 
tragic  isolation ;  and  yet  I  was  convinced  of 
my  own  inadequacy  as  regarded  her  needs. 

I  sighed  involuntarily  and  was  about  to 
turn  away,  but  she  stretched  out  a  detaining 
hand,  while  a  little  smile  of  amusement 
flitted  across  the  gravity  of  her  expression. 

"  Nay,  my  child,  be  not  so  hasty  in  your 
decisions,"  she  returned.  "  After  all,  it  is  I 
38 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

who  should  be  the  judge  of  your  capabili 
ties — unless,  indeed,  you  are  already  discour 
aged  by  the  loneliness  of  this  place,  and  use 
your  modesty  to  conceal  the  real  reason  of 
your  flight  ?" 

The  words  were  in  the  form  of  an  interrog 
atory  and  I  hastened  to  deny  their  false  accu 
sation.  I  spoke  with  considerable  warmth, 
and  the  smile  deepened  on  Madam's  face. 

"  You  are  quite  young,"  she  remarked. 
"  Not  more  than  eighteen  or  twenty,  I 
should  say.  That  is  in  itself  a  strong  rec 
ommendation  to  me.  I  should  like  some 
thing  youthful  about  me  in  my  old  age. 
But  my  longing  is  a  selfish  one.  Youth 
needs  youth  and  gaiety  and  bright  surround 
ings.  My  home  is  no  place  for  it  to  shelter 
in." 

She  gave  a  little  sigh,  as  if  her  thoughts 
were  introspective,  and  I  took  advantage  of 
the  pause  to  tell  her  how  little  I  prized  the 
pleasures  which  were  so  dear  to  most  girls 
of  my  age,  and  how  devoid  of  terrors  I  held 
solitude. 

I  think  the  eagerness  in  my  voice  touched 

39 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

and  won  her,  for  a  slight  flush  crept  into  her 
face  as  she  listened. 

"  You  have  probably  never  dreamt  of  a 
household  so  quiet  and  monotonous  as  this," 
she  said.  "  We  are  all  old  people  who  in 
habit  it, — Franklin,  poor  Mayberry,  and  I. 
And  I — I  am,  in  addition,  blind." 

I  cried  aloud  at  this,  so  shocked  and  star 
tled  was  I.  Blind  !  those  beautiful  eyes  with 
their  profound  depths  ! 

"  You  are  surprised,"  she  exclaimed,  while 
I  could  have  bitten  out  my  tongue  from 
annoyance  at  my  own  inadvertence.  "  Ah  ! 
my  old  eyes  are  sad  hypocrites,  my  dear, 
and  *  assume  a  virtue  when  they  have  it  not.' 
Now,  shall  I  begin  my  catechism  ?" 

There  is  no  need  to  go  into  the  detail  of 
question  and  answer  by  means  of  which 
Madam  became  convinced  that  my  endow 
ments  were  sufficient  for  the  position  I  cov 
eted.  I  had  received,  at  the  expense  of  a 
well-to-do  uncle,  an  excellent  education,  and, 
being  naturally  of  a  studious  habit  of  mind, 
had  ranged  even  beyond  the  lead  of  my  pre 
ceptors  into  the  fields  of  general  knowledge. 
40 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

I  could  speak  with  confidence  of  my  lin 
gual  familiarity  with  French,  German,  and 
Italian,  besides  being  able  to  claim  a  toler 
ably  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  most 
celebrated  literary  productions  of  each  of 
these  nations.  Nor  had  my  English  ac 
quirements  suffered  neglect.  Well  stocked 
had  I  been  by  native  harvesting  before  being 
allowed  to  stray  afield  in  search  of  foreign 
gleaning. 

I  had  an  excellent  ear  for  music,  and  a  fair 
contralto  voice,  which  had  been  carefully 
cultivated,-  so  that  my  singing  really  afforded 
pleasure  to  even  critical  listeners ;  I  had 
a  knowledge  of  book-keeping  sufficient  to 
make  me  an  exceedingly  accurate  domestic 
accountant ;  I  could  read  aloud  for  hours 
without  fatigue  of  my  well-trained  vocal 
muscles,  and  thoughts  and  ideas  were  bred 
rapidly  enough  in  my  brain,  even  if  these 
were  at  times  too  odd  and  original  for  easy 
assimilation  by  those  to  whom  I  might 
chance  to  utter  them,  to  ensure  my  being  a 
fairly  entertaining  and  easy  conversation 
alist. 

41 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

I  did  not  offer  Madam  this  frank  inven 
tory  of  my  accomplishments  as  I  offer  it  to 
my  readers.  She  was  supplied  with  the  op 
portunity  of  discovering  it  for  herself  which 
is  denied  you.  I  am  not  egotistical  in  thus 
acknowledging  my  gifts  and  attainments ; 
they  were  merely  the  stock-in-trade  by 
means  of  which  I  hoped  to  secure  a  living, 
and  it  seems  necessary  to  the  telling  of  my 
tale  that  I  should  make  mention  without 
mock  modesty  of  the  extent  to  which  I  was 
equipped  for  my  career. 

The  manner  of  Madam's  interrogatory  re 
vealed  to  me  her  possession  of  great  tact  and 
cleverness.  So  adroitly  she  led  me  on  to 
disclose  my  abilities  that  I  am  sure  I  re 
vealed  my  whole  scope  and  character  within 
fifteen  minutes  of  entering  her  boudoir,  while 
at  the  time  I  had  almost  no  suspicion  of  the 
probe  she  was  so  skilfully  inserting.  It  was 
not  until  afterwards,  when  I  was  alone  in 
my  chamber,  that  I  realised  how  much  per 
sonal  information  she  had  extracted  from 
me. 

"  My  dear,"   she  said,   finally,  "  you   are 
42 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

very  tired.  Your  voice  betrays  a  certain 
strain  and  weariness  which  will  be  followed 
by  an  exhausting  reaction  if  you  do  not  get 
immediate  rest.  If  you  are  satisfied  with  my 
terms" — they  were  very  liberal  ones — "  let 
Franklin  dismiss  your  carriage,  and  let  us 
try  for  a  week,  by  practical  experience,  the 
question  of  our  mutual  suitability.  Will 
you  do  so1?" 

My  vanity  whispered  that  beneath  the 
outward  calmness  of  her  manner  it  could  de 
tect  a  strain  of  suppressed  eagerness  as  to  my 
decision,  which  flattered  me  beyond  words. 
I  gladly  assented  to  her  proposal,  and,  in 
obedience  to  her  request,  rang  the  bell  and 
gave  the  old  butler  the  order  to  send  off  the 
waiting  carriage.  Madam  further  desired 
him  to  tell  the  housekeeper  to  prepare  my 
room,  and  as  she  departed  she  extended  to 
me  her  right  hand  with  the  gesture  of  one 
asking  a  charity. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  a  more  personal  in 
quisition,  my  child  ?"  she  asked,  with  some 
hesitation.  "  Will  you  mind  it  very  much 
if  I  touch  your  face  and  read  your  expression 

43 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

by  the  only  method  that  remains  to  me*? 
Perhaps  you  will  even  be  good  enough  to 
colour  for  me  the  crude  sketch  which  is  all 
my  rude  fingers  are  able  to  form  *?" 

I  knelt  at  her  side,  and  she  passed  her 
slender  fingers  deftly,  shrewdly,  over  my 
features.  I  thrilled  beneath  her  gentle  touch 
almost  as  might  a  maiden  beneath  the  caress 
of  her  lover. 

"  A  goodly  growth,"  she  remarked,  as  her 
hand  dwelt  upon  the  thick  masses  of  my 
hair.  "  Its  colour  *?" 

"  Chestnut,  my  mother  calls  it,  Madam," 
I  replied. 

"  With  golden  lights  threading  it  *?"  she 
asked,  a  little  eagerly. 

"  It  is  indeed  of  changeable  shades,"  I  re 
turned,  modestly,  for  I  well  knew  that  my 
only  patent  of  beauty  was  composed  of  the 
sun-flecked  hair  that  was  my  mother's  pride, 
together  with  the  white  and  perfect  teeth 
which  were  my  own  delight. 

Madam  drew  a  tiny  chain  from  its  seclusion 
beneath  the  bosom  of  her  gown,  and  opened 
a  massive  locket,  as  large  as  a  man's  watch, 

44 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

that  depended  from  it.  I  could  tell  by  its 
construction  that  it  was  divided  into  four 
compartments,  but  only  one  of  these  was 
revealed  to  my  curious  gaze.  That  held  the 
miniature  of  a  radiant,  blooming  girl,  upon 
whose  exquisite  brow  rested  the  suggestion 
of  a  dawning  matronhood  which,  when  it 
assumes  natural  and  graceful  possession  of  a 
woman's  face,  enhances  a  thousandfold  the 
beauty  of  immaturity. 

It  was  Madam.  No  one  could  for  an 
instant  doubt  that.  But  oh  ! — Madam  with 
hope  and  joy  and  anticipation  irradiating  the 
features  whereon  havoc  had  since  marked  its 
course. 

"  Is  it  such  as  this  was  *?"  she  asked,  hold 
ing  the  case  towards  me. 

"  Much  the  same,  I  think,"  I  replied. 
"  Only  yours  was  doubtless  more  beautiful, 
Madam." 

She  sighed  and  closed  the  case.  Probably 
for  the  sake  of  one  who  had  admired  and 
loved  their  beauty,  she  mourned  the  fading 
of  her  locks. 

And  so  together  we  painted  for  her  en- 

45 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

lightenment  a  sufficient  likeness  of  my  out 
ward  aspect. 

"  Hazel  eyes,  chestnut  hair,  perfect  health, 
which  implies  a  fair  complexion,  good  fea 
tures,  and  a  nobly  shaped  and  well-set  head, 
— you  should  be  something  of  a  beauty,  my 
dear,"  my  appraiser  concluded,  with  a  hu 
morous  little  smile. 

"  And  yet,  Madam,  I  am  not,"  I  answered, 
truthfully.  "  My  mouth  is  far  too  large,  my 
face  is  too  thin,  my  skin  too  colourless,  and 
withal  I  am  too  tall  and  lanky  to  be  attractive 
to  lovers  of  beauty." 


46 


CHAPTER   III. 

TT  was  her  pleasure  to  accompany  me  to 
my  room,  whither  I  led  her  according 
to  her  direction,  her  hand  resting  on  my  arm. 
We  were  nearly  of  equal  height,  which 
made  it  specially  easy  for  me  to  become  her 
guide. 

She  left  me  after  a  little,  having  assured 
herself  that  things  had  been  made  comfort 
able  for  my  reception.  And,  indeed,  a  far 
more  captious  person  than  I,  and  one  used  to 
much  greater  luxury,  could  scarcely  have 
found  anything  to  complain  of  in  the  small 
suite  of  rooms — chamber,  sitting-room  and 
bath — that  had  been  recently  appointed,  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  Madam  was  about  to 
receive  into  her  house  a  new  inmate. 

I  made  a  cursory  inspection  of  my  apart 
ments,  disposed  my  belongings  for  the  night, 
and,  after  refreshing  myself  with  the  dainty 
supper  which  Madam  insisted  I  should  take 

47 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

in  my  own  room,  being  firmly  of  the  opinion 
that  I  was  too  fatigued  to  dine  below  stairs, 
went  to  the  window  and  stood  for  some  time 
gazing  in  dreamy  abstraction  out  into  the 
night. 

A  small  crescent  of  light  hung  low  in  the 
heavens,  and  shed  the  tenderest  of  possible 
illuminations  over  the  world.  The  night 
was  so  still  that  an  almost  unearthly  hush 
seemed  to  have  fallen  from  its  wings.  On 
the  left,  winding  away  into  unfathomable 
distance,  was  the  avenue  which  had  been  my 
way  hither,  and  far  below  on  the  right,  dimly 
and  partially  discernible  through  the  sombre 
branches  of  the  grim  and  forbidding  poplars, 
gleamed  forth  that  cold  and  spectral  mass  of 
masonry  that  formed  the  house  which  had 
attracted  my  notice  as  I  approached  The 
Ivies. 

Almost  beneath  me  it  lay,  for  I  was  in  a 
wing  of  the  house  in  close  proximity  to  the 
cliff  that  overhung  it.  Its  utter  gloom  (there 
were  no  lights  about  it)  and  air  of  ghostly 
mystery  struck  old  and  chill  upon  my  fancy. 

I  felt  it  to  be  a  house  with  a  history,  and 

48 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

fell  a-wondering  what  that  history  might  be ; 
whether  I  should  ever  learn  it ;  whether  it 
had  connection  with  the  tragedy  which 
seemed  to  stalk  nakedly  and  yet  closely 
masked  about  the  house  in  which  I  had 
elected  to  take  up  my  abode.  Would  the 
time  come  when  the  secrets  of  Madam's  life 
would  be  matters  of  familiar  detail  to  me? 
Would  my  courage  and  the  support  of  that 
inner  monitor  on  which  I  so  largely  depended 
be  sufficient  to  counteract  the  loneliness  and 
depression  of  my  surroundings'? 

Brave  and  possessed  of  enthusiasm  for  my 
mistress  though  I  was,  independent  of  the 
diversions  of  youth  as  I  had  professed  my 
self,  I  could  not  close  my  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  I  had  never  before  been  tested  by  such 
extreme  conditions  as  these,  and  I  wondered 
if,  after  the  novelty  of  the  situation  had 
worn  off,  I  should  be  able  to  find  enough 
matter  of  interest  in  the  place  to  hold  at  bay 
a  natural  and  by  no  means  exaggerated 
yearning  for  occupation  and  diversion. 

I  fell  asleep  still  revolving  in  my  mind 
the  possibilities  in  the  case. 

4  49 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

The  next  morning  was  as  different  from 
the  afternoon  that  had  preceded  it  as  it  is 
possible  for  two  days  at  the  same  season  of 
the  year  to  be.  Whereas  the  evening  had 
been  cold,  bleak,  and  dreary,  suggestive  of 
the  desolation  and  abomination  of  winter, 
the  dawn  was  balmy,  mild,  and  pleasant, 
indicative  of  spring  and  all  things  vernal  and 
joyous. 

I  made  a  hasty  toilet  with  my  window 
thrown  wide  open  to  the  pure  country  air, 
which  was  deliciously  invigorating  to  my 
city-bred  lungs.  Then  I  went  out  into  the 
long  corridor  on  which  my  rooms  opened, 
and  which  led  to  the  large  upper  hall  that 
I  have  already  described.  Having  gained 
this,  I  paused  at  the  balustrade,  admiring  its 
carven  beauties,  and  gazing  down  into  the 
hall  beneath,  feasting  my  eyes  upon  the  har 
monious  picture  of  still-life  the  splendid 
apartment  presented. 

My  occupation  of  it  the  previous  after 
noon  had  been  too  brief  and  the  light  too 
insufficient  for  me  to  discover  half  its  beau 
ties  ;  but  now  they  stood  in  the  brilliant 
50 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

morning  sunshine,  fully  revealed  to  my  ad 
miring  eyes.  Especially  did  the  sunlight 
bring  into  prominence  a  stained-glass  win 
dow  of  enormous  proportions,  which  made 
a  glowing  bit  of  mural  decoration  of  the 
farther  end  of  the  hall.  It  had  for  subject 
Christ  and  the  repentant  Magdalene,  and  was 
a  masterpiece  of  design  and  effective  colour 
ing.  About  the  walls  ran  low  book-cases 
of  dark  mahogany,  filled  to  overflowing 
with  books  in  costly  bindings,  suggesting 
the  thought  that  formerly  one  of  the  uses 
'of  the  place  had  been  that  of  library.  The 
shelves  which  topped  these  cases  were  cov 
ered  with  beautiful  vases,  curios,  ornaments 
of  modern  and  antique  design ;  and  above 
these,  pictures  lined  the  spaces,  extending 
away  up  the  vast  stretches  of  the  walls  until 
they  overflowed  into  the  gallery  above. 

While  I  stood  thus,  enjoying  to  the  full 
this  rare  feast  of  beauty,  I  heard  a  weak,  un 
certain  footstep  behind  me.  It  never  crossed 
my  mind  that  it  could  be  Madam.  Despite 
her  blindness,  there  was  no  faltering  or  inde 
cision  in  any  of  her  movements.  I  turned, 
51 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

therefore,  expecting  to  confront  some  ser 
vant  ;  and  such,  indeed,  proved  to  be  the 
case.  But  the  servant  was  of  a  type  far  dif 
ferent  from  any  I  had  ever  formed  acquaint 
ance  with. 

The  woman  who  had  approached  me  so 
silently  that  until  she  stood  within  arm's 
length  I  had  been  unaware  of  her  presence, 
was  of  so  strange  and  singular  an  appear- 
(  ance  that  involuntarily  I  shrank  from  nearer 
association,  with  a  recoil  of  my  person  of 
which  I  was  at  once  ashamed.  She  was  a 
creature  so  inharmonious  of  aspect,  of  such 
woful  incongruity  of  design  and  fulfilment, 
so  evidently  an  embodiment  of  a  living 
grief,  that  one  instinctively  shunned  contact 
with  so  unmistakable  an  abstraction  of 
despair. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  garden  so  fair  and 
gracious  in  appearance  that  to  gaze  upon  it 
satisfies  every  aesthetic  craving  of  your 
nature ;  a  garden  whose  form  and  design 
seem  absolutely  perfect,  whose  flowers  are 
of  the  rarest  species  and  most  exquisite  de 
velopment,  in  which  the  sun  is  fain  to  linger 
52 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

like  a  lover,  and  over  whose  pleasant  paths 
and  verdure  the  blue  skies  brood  tenderly 
and  peacefully1?  Have  you,  later,  beheld 
this  scene  of  natural  and  cultivated  loveli 
ness  after  it  has  been  devastated  and  laid 
waste  by  some  monstrous  cataclysm,  after 
it  has  been  swept  and  ravaged  by  ruthless 
winds,  and  all  its  gentle  features  have  been 
marred  and  distorted  by  stress  and  storm  ? 

That  is  the  only  parallel  I  can  think  of 
to  the  impression  this  woman  produced  upon 
my  mind  at  first  sight.  Later  I  came  to  pity 
her,  to  tolerate  her  presence  without  shrink 
ing,  to  endeavour  to  cheer  and  comfort  her 
even,  but  it  took  a  mighty  effort  to  conquer 
my  natural  reluctance  to  approach  within 
the  circumference  of  that  depressing  atmos 
phere  which  she  exhaled.  All  the  buoy 
ancy  of  my  young  spirit  shrank  from  the 
contagion  of  her  misery. 

She  had  been  probably  in  youth  some 
what  above  medium  height,  but  her  spare 
form  had  so  yielded  to  the  crushing  weight 
of  adversity  that  she  was  bowed  and  bent 
almost  to  deformity.  One  would  have  taken 
53 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

her  for  a  dwarf  at  a  casual  glance.  Her 
face  still  preserved  traces  of  a  once  marvel 
lous  comeliness,  and  this  very  suggestion  of 
former  beauty,  disfigured  and  despoiled  as  it 
was,  marred  her  countenance  far  more  deeply 
than  native  ugliness  would  have  done.  Her 
features  were  as  small  and  regular  as  those 
of  a  French  doll ;  her  eyes,  originally  blue, 
were  now,  through  constant  weeping,  quite 
devoid  of  colour.  Her  cheeks,  of  ghastly 
whiteness,  had  so  long  been  the  mere  water 
courses  of  her  tears  that  they  were  ploughed 
with  lines  worse  than  the  wrinkles  of  ex 
treme  age.  All  this  was  repellent  enough, 
but  the  most  repulsive  feature  of  her  person 
ality  was  the  strange  incongruity  that  ex 
isted  between  her  scarred  and  pallid  counte 
nance  and  the  glorious  mass  of  golden  hair 
that  rippled  riotously  back  from  her  seamed 
brow.  I  have  never  in  my  life  seen,  in  col 
our  or  texture,  the  like  of  her  hair.  It  was 
like  a  flood  of  sunshine  falling  upon  a  deso 
late,  devastated  ruin.  There  was  not  a  grey 
thread  in  it.  It  had  not  faded  in  any  degree, 
nor  had  it  lost  any  of  its  rich  abundance. 

54 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

On  the  head  of  a  girl,  accompanied  by  the 
bloom  and  freshness  of  youth,  it  would  have 
aroused  the  admiration  of  the  beholder.  On 
the  head  of  this  jaded,  wan,  miserable  woman 
it  jarred  upon  the  sight.  Its  inharmony 
smote  upon  one's  sensibilities  as  might  the 
introduction  of  a  waltz  motif  into  a  funeral 
march. 

She  addressed  me  as  I  turned  to  confront 
her.  I  had  unconsciously  endowed  her  with 
a  gentle,  perhaps  plaintive,  intonation ;  in 
stead  of  which  there  issued  from  her  drawn 
lips  a  harsh,  raucous  whisper,  which  in 
creased  the  repugnance  with  which  she  in 
spired  me. 

"  This  is  Miss  Lothrop  *?"  she  asked. 

I  bowed. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  May  berry,  Madam's  house 
keeper,"  she  continued.  "  Madam  tells  me 
you  are  to  become  her  companion." 

Again  I  bowed  assent. 

"  You  will  not  allow  yourself  to  be  dis 
couraged  or  dissuaded  by  the  dreariness  of 
this  place  ?" 

"  I  think  not." 

55 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

As  I  uttered  this  commonplace  phrase, 
imagine  my  surprise  at  seeing  this  curious 
creature  fling  herself  upon  her  knees  beside 
me,  seize  a  fold  of  my  gown  in  her  thin, 
claw-like  fingers,  and  lift  a  pleading,  be 
seeching  face  to  mine,  while  she  cried,  in  a 
very  agony  of  entreaty, — 

"  Ah  !  do  not,  do  not !  I  have  seen,  this 
morning,  upon  my  mistress's  face  the  first 
ray  of  brightness  that  has  crossed  it  since — 
O  God  !  since  when — since  when  *?" 

She  let  go  her  clutch  upon  my  skirt,  and, 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  burst  into 
a  fit  of  uncontrollable  weeping,  cowering 
like  a  whipped  dog  at  my  feet. 

It  was  evident  that  she  was  stirred  by 
some  powerful  memory,  and  I  felt  miserably 
embarrassed  in  the  presence  of  this  passion 
ate  outburst,  which  I  knew  not  how  to  com 
fort  or  to  soothe.  However,  I  could  reas 
sure  her  upon  the  point  which  had  seemed 
to  provoke  the  attack,  the  probability  of  my 
remaining  at  The  Ivies,  and  this  I  proceeded 
to  do. 

I  was  engaged  in  this  attempt  when  her 
56 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

quick  and  carefully  trained  ears  detected  a 
sound  that  escaped  my  own,  the  sound  of 
her  mistress's  firm  and  stately  tread  approach 
ing  from  her  boudoir.  She  rose  at  once,  and, 
catching  my  hand  to  her  lips,  pressed  a  trem 
ulous  kiss  upon  it,  while  she  whispered, 
quickly,  "  My  dear,  you  will  be  doing  mis 
sionary  work  if  you  remain,"  and  then, 
gliding  noiselessly  out  of  sight,  left  me  to 
meet  Madam  and  conduct  her  down  the 
wide  staircase  to  the  dainty  morning-room 
in  which  it  was  her  custom  to  breakfast. 

As  far  as  comfort  and  luxury  were  con 
cerned,  life  at  The  Ivies  was  ideal.  The 
staff  of  domestics  was  limited  in  number, 
but  fully  adequate  in  service.  It  consisted 
of  the  housekeeper  and  butler  whom  I  have 
named,  an  old  general  out-of-door  servant, 
who  slept  in  a  room  in  the  stable,  and  at 
tended  to  the  grounds  and  to  the  pair  of 
ancient  coach-horses  that  alone  composed 
Madam's  stud,  and  a  cook  and  housemaid, 
middle-aged  women,  nieces  of  Franklin,  who 
had  occupied  the  same  positions  since  they 
were  girls.  Mayberry  also  served  as  Madam's 
57 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

maid,  and  I  soon  discovered  that  she  was  ex 
ceedingly  jealous  of  any  attempt  to  rob  her 
of  the  performance  of  her  duties  in  this 
capacity. 

My  work  proved  to  be  thoroughly  con 
genial,  and  in  no  degree  onerous.  Madam 
fulfilled  my  most  extravagant  anticipations, 
and  charmed  and  fascinated  me  by  her  many 
gifts  and  rare  intellectuality.  The  most  cul 
tured  minds  might  have  found  her  a  conge 
nial  companion  ;  to  a  young,  ardent,  impres 
sionable  girl,  such  as  I  then  was,  she  appeared 
almost  divinely  endowed  and  accomplished. 
She  never,  after  that  first  mention  of  it,  made 
allusion  to  her  blindness,  but  I  felt  sure  it 
must  have  been  of  recent  date,  for  she  had 
made  no  attempt  to  train  her  other  senses  to 
the  assistance  of  this  defect,  as  would  natu 
rally  have  been  the  case  if  the  affliction  had 
been  of  very  long  standing. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  week  she  questioned 
me  as  to  my  willingness  to  remain,  and  the 
fervour  of  my  response  set  that  matter  for 
ever  at  rest  between  us.  From  day  to  day  I 
could  see  that  she  grew  dependent  upon  me, 
58 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

and  this  flattered  me  and  increased  my  en 
thusiasm  for  my  work.  Work !  It  was 
scarcely  that,  the  service  which  was  required 
of  me.  It  was  employment,  it  is  true,  but 
the  sort  of  employment  that  was  dearest  to 
my  soul,  and  which  was  amusement  as  well 
as  occupation  to  one  of  my  tastes. 

Old  Franklin  and  Mayberry,  grateful  to 
me  for  the  benefit  which  they  insisted  I  was 
doing  their  beloved  mistress  (I  think  I  was 
the  only  being  who  came  in  contact  with 
Madam  of  whom  the  housekeeper  was  never 
jealous),  studied  my  comfort  to  a  degree 
that  led  me  to  remonstrate  with  them.  Un 
der  their  united  efforts  my  rooms,  always 
attractive  and  amply  supplied,  attained  such 
luxurious  equipment  that  I  felt  constrained 
to  speak  of  it  to  Madam,  fearing  that  should 
she  ever  discover  the  numerous  additions 
my  apartment  was  continually  receiving  she 
might  think  me  guilty  of  soliciting  them. 
However,  I  had  scarcely  opened  the  subject 
than  she  laid  her  hand  lightly  on  my  lips. 

"  My  little  Dorothy,"  she  said,  "  on  one 
matter  Mayberry,  Franklin,  and  I  are  in  per- 

59 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

feet  accord.  We  all  agree  in  thinking  that 
nothing  in  this  great  house  can  be  put  to 
better  use  than  in  helping  to  detain  and  at 
tract  the  sunbeam  that  has  strayed  through 
the  closed  shutters  of  our  lives.  Let  them 
have  their  way,  my  child.  It  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  these  old  people.  Do  not  de 
prive  them  of  it." 

The  retirement  of  our  existence  was  well- 
nigh  complete.  Madam  received  absolutely 
no  one,  even  the  clergyman  of  Eldon  parish 
having  abandoned  all  attempts  to  penetrate 
within  the  walls  of  the  secluded  dwelling. 
Yet,  although  priestly  counsel  was  not  ac 
ceptable  to  her,  Madam  was  not  unmindful 
of  the  necessities  and  privations  of  the  poor, 
and  every  month  a  generous  cheque  was 
despatched  by  me  in  her  name  to  Mr.  Booth, 
the  rector,  to  be  disbursed  as  he  saw  fit. 

Before  long  I  suggested  an  amendment  to 
this  custom,  which,  as  she  was  constantly 
urging  upon  me  the  necessity  of  exercise  in 
the  open  air,  Madam  gladly  adopted.  It  was 
to  the  effect  that,  instead  of  continuing  this 

method  of  general  relief,  she  should  allow 
60 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

me  to  become  her  almoner  among  the  poor. 
It  would  give  aim  and  object  to  my  walks, 
and  I  felt  that  by  its  means  I  could  bring 
outside  interest  into  Madam's  life. 

I  had  been  at  The  Ivies  about  three 
months  when  one  day,  in  the  middle  of  May, 
I  rose  in  the  morning  with  a  tight  iron  band 
about  my  head.  The  weather  for  a  week 
had  been  an  almost  incessant  downpour,  so 
wet  that  only  an  amphibious  creature  could 
have  found  it  inviting.  Madam  and  I  had 
been  deeply  interested  in  a  new  German 
work  which  I  had  been  reading  aloud,  and 
either  application  to  its  dazzling  text,  or  too 
close  confinement  to  the  house,  or  perhaps  a 
combination  of  both  causes,  had  resulted  in 
this  acute  physical  depression.  Feeling  a 
longing  for  fresh  air,  and  believing  that  a 
brisk  walk  would  be  my  best  medicine,  I 
obtained  Madam's  consent  to  postpone  my 
usual  morning  duties  until  later  in  the  day, 
and  started  out  on  an  errand  that  would 
carry  me  well  into  the  village,  a  distance  of 
perhaps  four  miles. 

Although  I  was  a  stranger  to  its  people, 

61 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

for  I  had  only  recently  begun  to  administer 
Madam's  bounty  among  the  poor,  I  was  by 
this  time  fairly  familiar  with  the  little  ham 
let.  I  had  called  upon  Mr.  Booth  to  ac 
quaint  him  personally  with  the  change 
Madam  proposed  making,  and  had  found 
him  more  than  pleased  to  welcome  an  assist 
ant  in  his  parish  work.  He  was  an  agree 
able  man,  earnest,  sincere,  but  extremely 
modest  and  retiring ;  a  bachelor,  living  alone, 
with  a  maid-of-all-work  to  minister  to  his 
needs.  Save  the  few  poor  people  whom  I 
visited,  he  was  the  sole  acquaintance  I  had 
made  in  the  place. 

I  had  done  my  errand,  not  without  some 
physical  discomfort,  for  the  living-room  of 
the  cottage  in  which  I  had  been  received 
was  close  from  the  fumes  of  tobacco  and 
strong  vegetables  and  over-heated  by  a  fire 
burning  in  the  range,  and  was  returning 
through  the  village  street,  when  I  felt  my 
self  overcome  by  a  distressing  dizziness.  It 
came  upon  me  suddenly,  but  not  before  I 
had  found  strength  enough  to  push  open  a 

little  gate  close  by  me,  and  stagger  up  the 
62 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

narrow  path  which  led  to  the  doorstep  of  a 
quaint  little  house  which  I  had  frequently 
noted  in  my  walks. 

I  remember  seeing  a  lady  sewing  in  the 
window,  but  that  was  my  last  gleam  of  con 
sciousness,  until  I  found  myself  lying  on 
a  sofa  in  a  cosy  sitting-room,  having  my 
brow  bathed  by  a  large,  comfortale-looking 
woman,  whose  head  was  turned  aside  to  ad 
dress  someone  out  of  my  range  of  vision. 
She  did  not  observe  the  unclosing  of  my 
eyes,  and  I  hastily  shut  them  again,  being  so 
weak  and  languid  of  spirit  that  I  had  no  in 
clination  to  meet  or  respond  to  interroga 
tories. 

"  I  think — indeed,  I  am  sure — she  is  Mrs. 
Eldredge's  companion,  David,"  she  was  say 
ing.  "  Poor  child,  she  is  young  to  be 
doomed  to  live  within  such  shadows  !" 

"  There  are  worse  fates  than  that,  mother. 
A  girl  who  is  forced  to  earn  her  own  living 
may  consider  herself  fortunate  if  shadows 
are  the  only  evil  she  has  to  combat." 

I  recognised  the  voice  immediately.  Its 
cheery  tones  had  comforted  me  once  before. 
63 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  She  seems  a  fragile  creature  to  fight  her 
way  through  life  ;  and,  too,  she  has  more 
beauty  than  it  is  altogether  safe  for  a  work 
ing-woman  to  be  adorned  with.  Look, 
David,  what  richness  and  abundance  !" 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  my  hair,  from 
which  she  had  drawn  the  pins  that  the  strain 
upon  my  head  might  be  relieved  ;  its  masses 
overflowed  the  couch  and  fell  upon  the  floor. 
I  felt  that  I  had  no  right  to  lie  there  and 
listen  to  further  flattery,  and,  suddenly  open 
ing  my  eyes,  met  her  solicitous  gaze. 

"  Ah,  that  is  right,  my  dear,"  she  said, 
kindly.  "  You  are  better  ?  David,  she  has 
come  to  herself." 

Dr.  Spencer  came  forward. 

"  Do  not  try  to  exert  yourself  quite  yet," 
he  said,  as  I  made  a  motion  as  if  to  rise. 
"  Please  rest  as  you  are  until  my  mother 
shall  have  prepared  a  cup  of  tea  for  you. 
You  will  be  all  right  then,  I  think." 

I  was  more  than  willing  to  follow  his  ad 
vice,  and  with  a  little  nod  of  acquiescence 
again  closed  my  eyes.  My  hostess  bustled 

away,  and   silence    took   possession  of  the 
64 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

room.  Presently  curiosity  got  the  better  of 
my  lassitude,  and  I  opened  my  lids  again  to 
discover  what  my  companion  might  be  about. 
He  was  standing  at  the  window  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  looking  out  into  the 
street  with  an  expression  upon  his  face  which 
assured  me  that  he  had  forgotten  there  was 
such  a  person  in  existence  as  Dorothy  Loth- 
rop,  and  that  his  thoughts  were  far  distant 
from  the  present  scene. 

He  was  a  tall  man,  broad-shouldered,  and 
vigorous  of  frame,  with  a  strong,  intelligent 
face,  blue  eyes,  and  fair  hair.  I  could  not 
tell  his  age  very  exactly,  for  there  was  a  look 
of  mature  gravity  and  wide  experience  about 
the  eyes  and  mouth  at  variance  with  the  rest 
of  his  appearance.  He  might  have  been 
anywhere  between  thirty-five  and  forty.  I 
had  been  prepossessed  in  his  favour  from  the 
moment  he  addressed  me  on  my  arrival  at 
the  Eldon  station,  and  this  second  good  turn 
he  had  done  me  quite  won  my  heart.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  I  owed  him  an  acknowl 
edgment  of  his  former  kindness  and  act  of 
self-sacrifice,  and  I  seized  the  present  occa- 
5  65 


MADAM   OF  THE  IVIES 

sion  to  make  it.  Perhaps  I  was  also  urged 
to  break  the  silence  by  a  less  commendable 
motive,  for  I  do  not  believe  that  any  woman 
likes  to  have  her  presence  in  a  room  ignored 
by  a  man,  even  if  she  be  in  a  dying  condi 
tion. 

"  Dr.  Spencer "  I  began. 

He  turned  at  once  with  a  start.  It  was 
proof  that  he  had  forgotten  me. 

"  I  am  much  better.  I  want  to  thank 
you  now,  while  I  have  the  opportunity,  for 
your  great  consideration  in  giving  up  your 
carriage  to  me  the  night  I  arrived  in  Eldon." 

His  expression  of  surprise,  as  he  scruti 
nised  me  closely,  was  most  disconcerting  to 
my  vanity.  It  was  more  than  apparent  that 
he  had  not  recognised  me.  And  yet  his 
mother  had  remarked  upon  my  beauty  ! 

"Oh!"  he  returned,  coming  forward, 
"  were  you  the  lady  who  was  stranded  that 
night  on  our  inhospitable  shore?  Pardon 
me ;  I  had  thought  it  an  older  woman." 


66 


CHAPTER    IV. 

mirror  had  told  me  that  I  had  grown 
younger  since  coming  to  Eldon.  The 
hollows  in  my  cheeks  had  rounded  out,  I 
could  no  longer  say  that  I  was  too  white  for 
beauty,  and  the  anxious  and  harassed  ex 
pression  which  the  unsatisfactory  and  unset 
tled  conditions  of  my  life  prior  to  my  de 
parture  from  New  York  had  graven  on  my 
features  had  wholly  given  place  to  the  nat 
ural  serenity  and  animation  of  my  age.  I 
was  somewhat  mollified  by  his  explanation, 
feeling  it  flattering  to  my  present  appearance. 
I  smiled. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  it  was  I,  and  I  was 
stranded,  that  is  a  fact.  But  for  your  chival 
rous  assistance  I  shudder  to  think  what  might 
have  become  of  me." 

He   laughed,   and   at   that    moment    his 

mother  re-entered  the   room,  bearing  on  a 
67 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

small  tray  a  cup  of  steaming  tea,  the  mere 
sight  of  which  seemed  to  infuse  new  strength 
into  my  veins.  I  was  not  disappointed  in 
its  effect  upon  me,  for  after  drinking  it  I  felt 
like  a  new  creature. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  have  given  you  so 
much  trouble,"  I  said  to  Mrs.  Spencer,  as 
she  took  the  empty  cup  from  my  hand.  "  I 
must  introduce  myself  to  you  in  proper  form. 
I  am  Miss  Lothrop,  companion  to  Mrs. 
Eldridge,  of  The  Ivies." 

"  Yes,  I  thought  so,"  returned  the  good 
woman,  with  evident  pleasure  in  her  own 
perspicacity.  "  You  are  not  wholly  un 
known  to  us,  my  dear  young  lady.  My 
son  has  heard  you  gratefully  spoken  of  by 
many  of  his  poor  patients,  besides  which, 
Mr.  Booth  has  mentioned  you  to  us.  I 
hope  your  interest  in  charitable  work  is  not 
proving  too  great  a  tax  upon  your  strength." 

"Not  at  all,"  I  replied,  with  decision. 
"  This  attack  is  merely  the  result  of  confine 
ment.  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  do  some 
good  in  the  world,  even  if  it  be  only  to 
administer  another's  bounty." 

68 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

She  looked  at  me  approvingly,  and  the 
doctor  even  turned  a  kindly  glance  upon 
me. 

"  But  you  have  an  excellent  home  mis 
sion,"  Mrs.  Spencer  remarked,  not  without 
emotion.  "  Even  without  venturing  beyond 
the  doors  of  The  Ivies  you  have  ample  op 
portunity  for  good  work  in  ministering  to 
the  broken  and  bruised  spirit  of  that  noble 
woman  who  is  its  mistress.  I  do  not  know 
whether  you  are  acquainted  with  the  sad 
circumstances  of " 

"  Mother !" 

I  welcomed  the  warning  exclamation  that 
served  as  interruption.  I  divined  that  my 
hostess  was  one  of  those  simple,  garrulous, 
kindly  souls  that  dearly  love  a  bit  of  gossip, 
and  the  expression  of  the  son's  face  assured 
me  that  this  weakness  of  his  mother's  was 
intolerable  to  him.  I  had  no  wish  to  hear 
from  strange  lips  details  which  dear  Madam 
had  chosen  to  withhold  from  me.  To  listen 
to  the  sad  story  that  had  wrecked  her  life, 
without  her  permission,  seemed  to  me  treason 
able  intrusion  upon  sacred  ground. 
69 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

Mrs.  Spencer's  round,  rosy  face  flushed  a 
deep  crimson. 

"  Oh,  David,  my  dear,  pardon  me  ;  I  quite 
forgot,"  she  said,  hurriedly,  and  with  more 
embarrassment,  it  seemed  to  me,  than  the 
occasion  warranted. 

Both  mother  and  son  were  so  evidently 
discomposed  by  her  untoward  allusion  that 
it  appeared  wisdom  on  my  part  to  create  a 
diversion  by  rising  to  depart.  This  action 
restored  the  atmosphere  to  its  normal  serenity, 
and  drew  forth  strong  expressions  of  remon 
strance  from  my  hosts.  Neither  considered 
me  fit  for  the  long  walk  back,  and  Dr. 
Spencer  urged  that  I  should  allow  him  to 
drive  me  home  in  his  dog-cart. 

I  thanked  him  cordially,  but  declined  his 
offer,  saying  that  I  feared  the  advent  of  a 
stranger  might  disturb  Mrs.  Eldredge,  who 
often  took  her  exercise  on  the  wide  verandah 
at  this  hour.  But  Mrs.  Spencer  insisted. 

"  You  are  not  fit  to  walk  ;  is  she,  David  ? 
Physician's  orders,  you  know,  my  dear !  Do 
let  my  son  drive  you.  He  is  no  stranger  to 

Madam.     Why " 

70 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

Again  that  warning  "  Mother !"  checked 
the  voluble  utterance.  She  broke  abruptly 
off  again  and  turned  aside  to  hide  her  con 
fusion.  Then  the  doctor  took  up  the  argu 
ment. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Miss  Lothrop,"  he 
said,  "  in  thinking  that  my  appearance  might 
distress  Mrs.  Eldredge,  but  I  am  equally 
reasonable  in  asserting  that  you  are  in  no  fit 
condition  to  walk  home.  Let  us  com 
promise.  If  you  will  permit  me  to  drive 
you  to  the  gates  of  The  Ivies,  I  will  allow 
you  to  walk  thence  to  the  house.  Is  it  a 
bargain  *?" 

I  was  glad  to  fall  in  with  this  proposition, 
and  while  Dr.  Spencer  was  gone  for  the  trap 
I  had  a  nice  cosy  little  chat  with  his  mother. 
I  had  much  ado,  however,  to  fend  her  off 
the  forbidden  subject,  for,  without  making 
direct  allusion  to  it,  she  persisted  in  flutter 
ing  so  dangerously  near  it  that  I  was  in  a 
state  of  much  alarm  lest  I  should  be  abso 
lutely  obliged  to  cover  my  ears  with  my 
hands  in  order  to  avoid  gleaning  unwelcome 
information.  As  it  was,  she  gave  me  to 
71 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

understand  by  veiled  hints  and  innuendoes 
that  the  events  which  had  desolated  The 
Ivies  had  also  laid  waste  her  son's  life. 

"  It  is  a  dreadful  blow  to  me  that  David 
should  throw  himself  away  upon  a  poor, 
miserable  little  village  like  this.  The  loss 
of  ambition  is  to  a  man  what  the  loss  of 
vanity  is  to  a  woman  ;  it  simply  lets  him 
run  to  seed.  And  a  man  of  David's  splendid 
attainments,  too  !  Ah,  my  dear,  we  mothers 
do  not  lose  the  burden  of  our  children's 
beings  when  we  are  delivered  of  them ;  we 
carry  them  with  us  to  the  grave." 

The  good  soul  followed  me  out  to  the 
dog-cart  and  tucked  the  rug  round  me  with 
motherly  solicitude,  and  I  finally  drove  away 
from  her  comfortable  neighbourhood  with 
her  warm  entreaties  for  future  visits  ringing 
in  my  ears. 

The  drive  home  was  pleasant.  I  found 
the  doctor  an  agreeable  and  interesting  com 
panion,  and  I  gathered  from  him  much  in 
formation  of  an  impersonal  character  con 
cerning  Eldon  and  its  surroundings.  He 

left  me  at  the  gate  with  as  cordial  an  ex- 
72 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

pression  of  anticipation  of  our  future  meet 
ing  as  that  which  his  mother  had  infused 
into  her  farewells,  and  I  made  my  way  up 
the  long  avenue  reflecting  pleasurably  upon 
this  new  and  genial  element  which  had  come 
so  unexpectedly  into  my  life. 

I  had  covered  about  half  the  distance  be 
tween  house  and  gateway  when,  to  my  un 
bounded  amazement,  I  came  upon  Madam, 
who  had  ventured  out  quite  alone,  and  who 
was  standing  absorbed  in  thought,  leaning 
against  the  rustic  fence  which  guarded  the 
steep  descent  of  the  cliff.  I  could  not  see 
her  face,  for  it  was  turned  in  the  direction 
of  the  Stone  House,  at  which  she  was  intently 
gazing. 

I  purposely  made  my  approach  audible, 
that  my  sudden  appearance  should  not  startle 
her,  but  she  took  no  heed  of  me  until  I  laid 
a  light  touch  upon  her  shoulder,  at  the  same 
time  greeting  her  by  name.  Then,  drawing 
a  long,  long  breath,  as  if  she  were  compel 
ling  her  spirit  back  from  a  distant  journey 
into  the  Past,  she  looked  round  and  wel 
comed  me  with  a  smile. 

73 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"Dorothy?" 

"  Yes,  Madam." 

"  I  have  missed  you,  child.  The  sun-dial 
marks  no  hours  while  Dorothy  is  absent." 

I  raised  her  hand  to  my  lips. 

"  Is  not  this  too  long  a  stroll  for  you  with 
out  companionship,  dear  Madam?" 

"  I  have  brought  a  trusty  staff  with  me, 
you  see."  She  held  up  a  stout,  gold-headed 
ebony  cane,  of  which  she  frequently  made 
use.  "  Besides,  though  he  does  not  dream  I 
suspect  it,  I  have  a  shrewd  idea  that  my 
good  Franklin  exercises  a  vigilant  watch 
upon  my  movements  when  I  occasionally 
stray  from  the  verandah."  And,  sure  enough, 
looking  round,  I  espied  the  old  man  dodging 
among  the  poplars  as  he  made  a  surrepti 
tious  way  back  to  the  house,  secure  in  the 
thought  that  I  was  with  his  mistress. 

"  May  I  wait  for  you,  Madam  ?" 

"  Certainly,  though  I  am  about  returning." 

She  paused  an  instant,  and  a  wistful 
shadow  crossed  her  beautiful  face.  After  a 
moment  she  resumed  her  speech. 

"  Dorothy,"  she  said,  "  this  is  an  anniver- 

74 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

sary.  Forty  years  ago  to-day  I  came,  a 
happy,  joyous  bride,  to  that  house  yonder." 
Again  she  turned  her  poor  blind  eyes  upon 
the  melancholy  pile  of  masonry.  "  My 
child,  it  is  an  unlucky  house,  a  house  of  sad 
disaster  and  misfortune  to  all  whom  it  has 
sheltered ;  but,  ah  !  I  would  like  to  see  it 
again.  I  would  give  much  to  look  once 
more  upon  the  walls  within  which  I  spent 
so  many  happy  hours." 

I  was  well  aware  that  she  lived,  when 
alone,  almost  wholly  within  the  memories 
of  past  events,  and  I  felt  it  distinctly  gratify 
ing  that  she  should  give  evidence  of  being 
so  much  at  one  with  me  as  to  address  me  in 
tones  of  retrospection. 

I  said  no  word  to  disturb  the  current  of 
her  thoughts,  but  softly  withdrew  the  ebony 
stick  from  her  grasp,  and  slipped  the  hand 
which  had  held  it  within  my  strong  young 
arm.  We  waited  thus  in  silence  a  little,  and 
presently  she  went  on. 

"  Dorothy,  I  must  see  it ;  I  must !"  she 
cried,  and  there  was  deep,  uncontrollable 
yearning  in  her  voice.  "  Look  at  it,  child ; 

75 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

look  closely  at  it,  until  it  seems  as  familiar 
to  you  as  the  face  of  a  friend.  Then  de 
scribe  it  to  me  ;  but  describe  it  faithfully,  for 
its  image  is  graven  on  my  heart,  and  I  shall 
know  if  your  observation  is  at  fault." 

I  halted  a  few  minutes,  earnestly  scru 
tinising  the  prospect  before  me,  for  I  was 
anxious  to  fulfil  her  request  to  the  very 
best  of  my  ability,  and  I  was  afraid  lest  she 
should  detect  carelessness  or  slovenliness  in 
my  description. 

"  I  see,"  I  began  at  length,  "  a  gloomy, 
grey  mass  of  rubble-stone,  rising  cold  and 
grim  against  a  background  of  dark  woods. 
It  forms  a  house  of  unattractive  and  even 
forbidding  exterior.  This  house  is  three- 
storeyed,  with  a  balcony  across  its  front,  en 
closed  and  supported  by  heavy  wrought-iron 
brackets  and  balustrade.  The  windows  are 
without  blinds,  and  white  inside  shutters  en 
hance  the  nakedness  of  their  appearance. 
There  are  two  doors  of  entrance,  that  upon 
the  ground-floor  opening  upon  a  neglected, 
grass-grown  driveway" — here  I  felt  Madam 

shiver  as  if  with   cold — "  and  appearing  to 
76 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

have  been  of  but  secondary  consideration  to 
the  architect  of  the  dwelling,  for  a  larger  and 
more  imposing  doorway  exists  in  the  next 
storey,  access  to  which  is  gained  by  means 
of  a  flight  of  broken  and  moss-stained  stone 
steps.  The  house  is  square  and  of  uncom 
promising  regularity  of  outline,  and  seems 
to  be  built  against  a  cliff  or  ledge  of  rocks." 

I  felt  a  sudden  movement  of  eagerness 
from  my  companion,  and  Madam  inter 
rupted  me  abruptly. 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  so.  I  know  it  well,  that 
ledge.  It  forms  the  back  of  the  lower  half 
of  the  house,  and  its  surface  is  covered  with 
a  rude  platform,  which  communicates  with 
the  house  by  means  of  a  door  opening 
upon  a  landing  of  the  inner  staircase.  Ah, 
the  dear  old  platform  !  How  many  happy 
hours  have  I  spent  there !  Ah,  dear  old 
house  that  has  widowed  me  !  Ah,  dear,  hal 
lowed  ground  that  still  echoes  with  the  tread 
of  the  feet  which  you  betrayed  !  God  knows 
you  have  done  me  bitter  harm  and  injury,  but 
oh  ! — I  love  you  still ! — I  love  you  still !" 

I  had  never  seen  her  moved  from  her  stern 

77 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

self-control  before,  and  I  knew  not  how  to 
meet  her  demand  upon  my  sympathy.  But 
I  took  refuge  in  silence.  That,  at  least,  does 
not  jar,  even  if  it  fails  to  comfort. 

Finally  she  made  a  movement  as  if  to 
leave  the  spot,  but  turned  to  me  before  de 
parting,  with  another  request. 

"  Dorothy,  I  should  like  once  more  to 
stand  upon  that  platform.  Could  we  make 
a  pilgrimage  thither  together  some  day,  do 
you  think?  Just  you  and  I*?" 

"  Indeed,  yes,  dear  Madam,"  I  replied, 
without  an  instant's  hesitation.  I  think,  if 
she  had  proposed  our  taking  a  trip  to  Jericho 
in  a  flying-machine,  I  should  have  acqui 
esced  in  the  idea,  I  was  so  eager  to  encourage 
her  confidence  in  me. 

So,  unmarked  by  special  event,  time  passed 
on  until  I  had  been  a  year  in  Madam's  ser 
vice.  A  closer  love  and  sympathy  had 
grown  up  between  us  than  exists  oftentimes 
between  mother  and  daughter.  I  know  that 
Madam  trusted  me  and  that  she  had  confi 
dence  in  my  discretion,  yet  I  was  as  ignorant 
of  the  history  of  her  life,  of  the  tragedy 
78 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

that  had  devastated  The  Ivies,  as  I  was  upon 
the  day  when  I  first  became  a  member  of  its 
limited  household. 

One  fact,  and  one  only,  connected  with 
Madam's  relations  to  life  outside  her  own 
home,  I  had  gained  ;  that  was  the  fact  of  the 
presence  somewhere  in  the  world  of  a  son 
who  had  expatriated  himself  for  some  cause 
unknown  to  me.  She  had  herself  mentioned 
him  to  me,  else  I  should  have  known  noth 
ing  of  him,  for  her  servants  were  too  faithful 
to  their  allegiance  to  her  to  gossip  ever  so 
slightly  of  things  that  concerned  their  mis 
tress.  She  had  alluded  to  letters  received 
from  him,  and  so  I  knew  that  a  correspond 
ence  was  maintained  between  them,  but  I 
was  not  called  upon  either  to  read  or  to 
answer  these  communications.  I  supposed, 
as  I  afterwards  learnt  was  the  case,  that  Mrs. 
Mayberry  served  her  at  such  times. 

One  day,  however,  as  we  were  sitting  at 
twilight  in  her  boudoir,  the  month  being 
February,  and  the  brilliant  flames  on  the 
hearth  all  the  illumination  we  required,  she 
said  to  me, — 

79 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Dorothy,  I  am  afraid  I  must  lay  a  new 
duty  upon  you." 

"  Even  then  my  burden  of  employment 
will  be  a  light  one,  Madam,"  I  answered. 

"  Poor  Mayberry's  handwriting  is  getting 
so  tremulous  that  it  is  becoming  almost  un 
decipherable.  It  is  a  serious  misfortune  to 
me,  for,  clever  amanuensis  as  you  are,  my 
dear,  you  cannot  be  of  such  special  service  to 
me  as  my  poor  old  housekeeper  has  been." 

"  Indeed,  Madam,  are  you  sure*?"  I  asked, 
somewhat  chagrined  at  the  idea  that  that 
poor  wreck  of  a  woman  could  do  better 
duty  than  I. 

"  Yes,  sure,"  she  replied.  "  I 'will  tell  you 
why.  She  has  acquired  a  very  faithful  imi 
tation  of  my  own  handwriting.  In  olden 
times  it  was  her  wont  to  try  to  fashion  her 
self  by  such  a  poor  model  as  I.  She  was  a 
clever  girl,  and  you  would  be  surprised  to 
know  how  accurately  she  copied  me  in 
many  respects.  I  have  spoken  to  you  of 
my  son  Darracott.  He  lives  abroad,  travel 
ling  from  place  to  place,  for  he  is  a  restless 

man  and  ill  content  with  monotony." 
80 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

She  paused,  and  sat  awhile  with  her  un 
seeing  gaze  bent  upon  the  glowing  fire,  while 
I  occupied  myself  with  reflections  upon  the 
selfishness  of  a  son  who  could  allow  a  blind 
mother  to  drag  out  so  desolate  and  lonely  an 
existence  as  this  of  Madam's  because,  for 
sooth,  monotony  wearied  him.  Youth  is 
apt  to  leap  at  hasty  conclusions. 

"  Mayberry  has  been  my  means  of  com 
municating  with  him,"  she  went  on,  pres 
ently.  "  She  has  read  his  letters  to  me,  and 
answered  them  in  the  first  person  for  me, 
because,  my  dear,  my  son  is  not  aware  of 
the  affliction  which  has  befallen  me,  and  it 
has  been  my  aim  and  wish  to  keep  it  from 
him." 

I  cried  aloud  at  this.     I  could  not  help  it. 

"  Oh,  Madam  !"  I  said  ;  "  it  is  not  right ; 
it  is  not  fair  to  him  !" 

She  smiled  very  sadly. 

"  Little  girl,"  she  replied,  "  you  speak  with 
the  impulsiveness  of  your  age  and  ignorance. 
Not  fair  !  Is  there  question  of  fairness  in 
adding  fresh  fuel  to  the  heap  which  con 
sumes  a  martyr1?  Darracott  should  never 

6  8l 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

have  been  informed  of  this  ill-fortune  which 
has  afflicted  me  if  I  could  have  prevented 
it ;  but,  alas  !  he  complains  that  he  can  no 
longer  decipher  my  handwriting,  which  is,  in 
fact,  Mayberry's,  and  argues  some  condition 
of  ill  health  from  this  evidence  of  infirmity. 
He  has  questioned  me  so  closely  that  I  find 
it  impossible  longer  to  evade  him,  and  I  am 
therefore  obliged,  most  unwillingly,  to  dis 
close  the  truth  to  him.  So,  little  Dorothy, 
you  must  hereafter  be  the  link  that  joins  my 
absent  boy  to  his  mother." 

And  so  it  was  that  I  began  to  write  long 
letters  to  Darracott  Chester,  for  I  found  that 
it  was  by  a  previous  marriage  that  this  son 
had  been  born  to  Madam.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  first  letter  I  wrote  him.  It  in 
formed  him  of  his  mother's  affliction,  but 
so  lightly  was  the  subject  treated  that  it 
might  have  had  to  do  with  a  mere  passing 
indisposition,  rather  than  with  a  dire  bereave 
ment  which  seems,  of  all  physical  calami 
ties,  the  worst.  The  casual  manner  in  which 
she  alluded  to  the  matter,  and  the  effort  to 

appear  careless  and  indifferent  concerning  it, 
82 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

gave  to  the  letter  a  tone  of  self-effacement 
and  self-abnegation  that  brought  tears  to  my 
eyes  as  I  penned  it. 

"  If  he  has  the  heart  of  a  man  and  not 
a  stone  in  his  breast,"  I  said  to  myself  as 
I  sealed  it,  "  he  will  come  home  to  her, 
whether  he  dreads  monotony  or  not." 

And,  indeed,  the  return  mail  brought  to 
Madam  a  letter  filled  with  reproach.  It  was 
rather  a  strange  letter,  I  thought,  for  while  it 
was  all  that  was  dutiful,  and  was  marked 
with  sincere  distress  and  sorrow  for  her  afflic 
tion,  it  lacked  totally  in  tenderness  and  filial 
love.  But  it  fulfilled  my  expectations  in  one 
respect.  Its  writer  was  about  to  return  to 
Eldon. 

This  prospect,  when  Madam  disclosed  it 
to  her  household,  created  the  wildest  excite 
ment.  The  effect  it  produced  upon  the 
most  prominent  trio  was  widely  different. 
Franklin  was  jubilant  at  the  thought  of  Mr. 
Chester's  return ;  Mayberry,  absurd  and  un 
reasonable  as  I  thought  the  idea,  was,  appar 
ently,  paralysed  and  shocked  by  the  intelli 
gence  ;  while  Madam  herself,  dearly  as  I 
83 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

believed  she  loved  him,  did  not  seem  wholly 
happy  in  the  idea  of  her  son's  home-coming. 

Uninstmcted  as  I  was  in  knowledge  of  the 
events  which  influenced  these  various  senti 
ments,  I  made  no  attempt  to  fathom  their 
cause,  and  contented  myself  with  girlish  and 
romantic  speculations  concerning  the  new 
inmate  which  The  Ivies  would  soon  receive. 

It  would  be  nearly  a  month  before  Mr. 
Chester  would  arrive,  he  wrote,  and  during 
that  month  I  found  occasion  heartily  to  wel 
come  the  fact  that  a  man  of  strength  and  in 
telligence  would  soon  be  installed  beneath 
our  roof.  For  during  that  month  strange 
things  occurred,  which  filled  me  with  fear 
and  foreboding,  and  which  yet  seemed  so 
wild  and  improbable  that  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  mention  them  even  to  my  good 
friends  the  Spencers. 

For  my  good  friends  the  Spencers  had  cer 
tainly  become.  Madam  always  spoke  of 
them  in  the  warmest  terms,  and  cordially 
encouraged  my  intimacy  with  them.  I  never 
had  cared  for  a  large  circle  of  acquaintances, 
but  it  was  exceedingly  pleasant  to  me  to  be 
84 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

able  to  vary  what  was  assuredly  a  monoto 
nous  existence  with  visits  to  such  a  conge 
nial  house  as  theirs.  There  was  but  one 
drawback  to  my  friendship.  David  Spencer 
had  grown  to  love  me,  and  had  told  me  so. 
I  had  been  obliged  to  refuse  his  love,  and 
although  he  had  begged  me  to  allow  his 
offer  to  make  no  difference  in  our  mutual 
relations,  and  I  had  promised  that  it  should 
be  so,  yet  it  was  but  natural  that  I  should 
feel  somewhat  constrained  in  the  presence 
of  a  man  whom  I  had  rejected. 

I  had  thought  it  only  honourable  towards 
Madam  that  I  should  acquaint  her  with  the 
matter.  I  was  surprised  by  the  manner  in 
which  she  received  my  confidence. 

"  Is  it  actually  impossible  for  you  to  love 
this  good  fellow,  my  dear  *?"  she  asked,  with 
great  earnestness. 

"  Impossible,  indeed,"  I  replied. 

She  sighed  deeply. 

"  I  wish  it  might  have  been  different,"  she 
said,   as   if   communing   with    herself.     "  It 
would  have  seemed  like  atonement."     Then 
the  subject  dropped  between  us. 
85 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

I  have  made  allusion  to  the  fact  that 
about  this  time  strange  and  suspicious  cir 
cumstances  began  to  arouse  my  curiosity 
and  alarm.  The  first  of  these  occurred  one 
evening,  or  rather  one  late  afternoon,  as  I  was 
returning  from  a  charitable  expedition  to  the 
village. 

My  nature  is  quite  a  fearless  one.  I  am 
without  the  natural  feminine  reluctance  to 
going  about  after  dark  unprotected,  nor  am 
I  unduly  disturbed  by  strange  happenings. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  more  than 
the  average  curiosity  of  my  sex,  although, 
being  aware  of  this  weakness,  I  have  made 
myself  mistress  of  it,  and  where  I  feel  it  to 
be  unwise  and  indiscreet  I  am  able  to  place 
a  strong  curb  upon  it.  But  on  ordinary 
occasions  it  rises  to  the  surface,  and  quite 
transcends  any  impediment  of  fear  or  timid 
ity  which  might  hamper  its  gratification. 

I  was  strolling  up  the  avenue,  then,  some 
time  after  dusk  had  fallen,  when,  at  about 
the  spot  where  I  had  found  Madam  standing 
many  months  ago,  I  came  to  an  abrupt  halt. 
I  had  chanced  to  look  down  at  the  Stone 

86 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

House  standing  amidst  its  shadows,  and  I 
could  have  sworn  that  I  saw  a  figure  flit  by 
one  of  its  windows.  I  approached  the  edge 
of  the  cliff  and  scanned  the  house  closely. 
There  was  certainly  a  shutter  open,  for  a 
dark  space  intervened  between  the  outlines 
of  a  casement  where,  as  in  the  other  win 
dows,  should  have  been  gleaming  whiteness. 
This  in  itself  was  strange,  for  never  in  all  the 
time  I  had  been  at  The  Ivies  had  I  seen  any 
sign  of  occupancy  or  caretaking  about  the 
place.  Indeed,  I  had  sometimes  wondered 
that  Madam  did  not  have  the  house  aired 
occasionally. 

Still,  unusual  as  this  evidence  of  life  in  the 
grim  mansion  was,  it  did  not  seem  to  me 
then  suspicious.  I  thought  that  perhaps 
during  my  absence  Madam  had  availed  her 
self  of  the  aid  of  either  Mayberry  or  Frank 
lin  to  carry  out  her  intention  of  revisiting 
the  scene  of  her  former  happiness,  and  my 
chief  sensation  as  I  continued  my  home 
ward  way  was  one  of  regret  and  disappoint 
ment  that  I  had  not  been  with  her  on  that 
occasion. 

8? 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

But  as  I  reached  the  door  of  The  Ivies, 
Franklin  opened  it  with  an  expression  of 
annoyance  on  his  face. 

"  Have  you  happened  to  see  Mrs.  May- 
berry,  Miss  Lothrop1?"  he  asked,  fretfully. 
"  Here  is  Madam  wanting  her,  and  she  is  not 
to  be  found  about  the  house." 

"No,  I  have  not  met  her,"  I  answered. 
Then  I  remembered  what  I  had  just  seen. 
"  Do  you  think  she  could  be  down  at  the 
Stone  House,  Franklin  *?"  I  suggested. 

The  old  man  looked  at  me  in  amazement 
as  profound  as  if  I  had  said,  "  Do  you  think 
she  could  be  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea4?" 
He  did  not  even  reply  to  my  question. 
Contenting  himself  with  ejaculating,  "  The 
Stone  House  !"  he  continued,  "  Then  you 
have  seen  nothing  of  her,  Miss  *?"  And  as  I 
replied  in  the  negative,  he  stood  aside  to  let 
me  pass,  suggesting  at  the  same  time  that  I 
should  go  to  Madam  and  see  if  I  could  ren 
der  the  assistance  she  needed. 


CHAPTER    V. 

T7  ARLY  the  next  morning  I  made  a  special 
expedition  down  the  avenue  to  discover 
if  the  shutter  still  remained  open,  but  found 
that  such  was  not  the  case. 

Two  days  later,  as  I  was  starting  out  for 
my  usual  exercise,  I  met  Mayberry  hovering 
about  the  lower  hall.  As  she  observed  me 
she  came  forward  and  said,  as  if  in  a  casual 
way, — 

"  Miss  Lothrop,  will  you  permit  me  to 
caution  you  a  little  *?  This  neighbourhood 
is  an  isolated  one.  I  do  not  think  it  quite 
wise  or  safe  for  a  young  girl  to  be  out  alone 
hereabouts  after  dark." 

There  was  a  look  of  anxiety  on  her  face, 
a  forced  attempt  at  carelessness  about  her 
manner,  that  made  me  suspect  the  genuine 
ness  of  her  concern  for  me. 

"  Madam  has  always  seemed  to  consider 
89 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

it  safe  enough,"  I  returned.  "  Is  there  any 
special  reason  for  alarm*?" 

She  hastened  to  reassure  me  upon  this 
point,  and  I  was  about  to  assert  my  deter 
mination  to  continue  my  wanderings  un 
mindful  of  her  warning,  thanking  her,  never 
theless,  for  her  solicitude,  when  I  was  struck 
by  the  thought  that  if  there  were  any  under 
hand  proceedings  in  progress  in  which  she 
had  a  share  it  would  be  as  well  to  throw  her 
off  her  guard  so  far  as  I  was  concerned. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  I  said.  "  After 
all,  there  is  never  any  telling  what  sort  of 
persons  may  be  prowling  about  a  lonely 
neighbourhood.  I  will  return  before  dark. 
Thank  you,  Mrs.  Mayberry." 

I  had  evidently  relieved  her  mind,  for  she 
smiled  and  proceeded  to  open  the  door  for 
me  with  all  the  obsequiousness  that  a  hum 
ble  servant  would  show  to  a  deeply  respected 
mistress.  She  had  certain  ways  and  man 
nerisms  that  I  detested,  a  cringing,  servile  de 
portment  being  that  which  most  revolted  me. 

I  fulfilled  my  promise  to  her  and  came 

back  before  twilight  fell.     I  took  pains,  also, 
90 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

to  let  her  know  of  my  return,  but,  almost 
immediately  after,  I  again  stole  out  of  doors 
and  took  several  turns  up  and  down  the 
avenue,  mounting  guard  over  the  Stone 
House,  expecting  I  know  not  what  develop 
ments  to  reward  my  observation.  But  my 
vague  anticipations  were  doomed  to  disap 
pointment.  The  dwelling  gave  forth  no 
signs  of  life  or  habitation.  It  remained  simply 
the  cold  white  corpse  of  a  once  happy  home. 
Two  or  three  days  after  this,  however,  I 
was  detained  by  the  very  severe  illness  of  one 
of  Madam's  beneficiaries  until  an  unusually 
late  hour.  So  late  was  it  that  Dr.  Spencer, 
whom  I  met  as  I  was  passing  through  the 
village,  remonstrated  with  me  concerning 
my  being  out  at  such  a  time,  and  insisted 
upon  accompanying  me  as  far  as  the  gates. 
As  I  approached  the  Stone  House  I  detected 
— perhaps  no  one  but  a  person  bent  on  dis 
covery  would  have  noted  it — a  line  of  light, 
a  mere  luminous  thread,  gleaming  through 
the  interstice  of  the  shutters  of  one  window. 
I  paused  some  moments,  watching  it  closely. 
I  gained  nothing  further  from  my  obser- 
91 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

vation,  however,  and,  fearing  to  delay  Mad 
am's  dinner-hour  by  my  absence,  shortly 
after  forsook  my  post  and  went  back  to  The 
Ivies,  in  a  state  of  great  doubt  and  per 
plexity. 

I  could  not  see  my  course  clear  in  the 
matter.  Had  I  been  instructed  in  the  story 
of  Madam's  life,  I  should  have  better  known 
how  to  act.  As  it  was,  I  feared  to  touch  raw 
wounds,  to  make  trouble  for  my  beloved 
mistress,  by  alluding  to  a  mystery  which 
might  be  connected  with  past  suffering  and 
sorrow.  But  I  did  resolve  upon  one  thing, 
— that  I  would  put  a  few  questions  to  old 
Franklin,  and,  possibly,  take  him  into  my 
confidence.  Accordingly,  that  night,  after  I 
had  conducted  Madam  back  to  the  boudoir 
when  dinner  was  over,  I  asked  her  to  excuse 
me  for  a  few  moments,  and  returned  again 
to  the  dining-room,  where  I  found  the 
ancient  servitor  clearing  the  table. 

"  Franklin,"  I  began,  "  does  anyone  ever 
go  into  the  Stone  House  for  any  purpose 
whatever  *?" 

The  old  fellow  had  greeted  my  appearance 
92 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

with  a  welcoming  smile,  for,  as  I  have  said, 
I  was  a  favourite  with  him,  and  he  was 
always  gratified  if  I  singled  him  out  for 
special  notice.  At  my  words,  however,  his 
face  fell  into  gloom,  and  his  voice,  as  he  re 
plied  to  my  question,  was  grave  and  troubled. 

"  No  one,  Miss  Lothrop,"  he  said,  with 
curt  brevity. 

"  Who  has  the  keys  to  it  *?"  I  continued, 
determined  not  to  be  discouraged  by  his  ap 
parent  disrelish  of  the  subject. 

"  Mrs.  Mayberry,"  he  answered. 

"  Don't  you  ever  go  down  there,  to  see  if 
things  are  as  they  should  be*?  Does  not 
Madam  expect  someone  to  see  that  it  is  kept 
in  proper  repair  *?  She  has  told  me  that  she 
has  an  affection  for  the  place ;  is  it  not  your 
duty  to  see  that  the  house  does  not  suffer 
from  neglect*?" 

I  almost  regretted  my  questions,  so  shock 
ing  an  effect  did  they  produce  upon  the 
faithful  old  soul.  His  aged  face  worked,  his 
lips  trembled,  and  his  hands,  which  held  a 
tray  of  glasses,  shook  so  that  their  burden 
jingled  noisily. 

93 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

"  O  Miss  Lothrop,"  he  begged,  "  don't  ask 
me  to  go  down  there  !  What  is  wrong  *?  I 
will  send  proper  persons  to  make  any  repairs 
that  may  be  necessary,  but  I  cannot  go  down 
there  myself.  I  cannot — no,  indeed  I  can 
not.  Madam  knows  that  I  have  never  been 
down  there  since  that  cursed  day,  and  she 
would  not  ask  it  of  me.  Mr.  Chester  will 
soon  be  home  now ;  can't  whatever's  wrong 
wait  till  he  comes  ?  Can't  it,  now  ?  Can't 
it,  miss*?"  His  voice  quite  broke  down  at 
the  last  with  emotion  and  anxiety. 

I  saw  that  for  some  unknown  reason  he 
was  too  powerfully  affected  by  the  neigh 
bourhood  of  the  curious  old  dwelling  to 
serve  me  as  aid  in  unravelling  its  mysteries. 
I  thought  it  better,  therefore,  to  throw  him 
wholly  off  the  scent,  for,  as  he  was  not 
available  as  coadjutor,  he  might  be  ob 
structive,  if  suspicious. 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  know  that  anything  is 
really  wrong  there,"  I  replied.  "  I  daresay 
things  are  in  very  good  condition.  I  was 
only  speculating  about  it,  and,  as  I  have  a 
woman's  curiosity,  Franklin,  I  thought  I 

94 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

would  ask  you  to  let  me  go  over  the  house 
some  time  with  you,  if  you  were  in  the  habit 
of  visiting  it  occasionally." 

He  gave  an  unaffected  shudder. 

"  I  would  as  soon  go  into  a  house  where 
I  had  committed  murder,"  he  remarked, 
gloomily. 

"  But  perhaps  Mrs.  Mayberry  would  take 
me  down  there  some  time ;  doesn't  she  ever 
go  down  to  air  it*?" 

The  housekeeper  herself  answered  me. 
She  had  come  out  from  behind  a  screen  that 
hid  the  pantry,  and  advanced  softly  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Mrs.  Mayberry  has  too  much  considera 
tion  for  your  nerves,  my  dear  young  lady," 
she  said,  in  her  harsh,  unpleasant  tones,  which 
no  effort  on  her  part  could  render  pliant  or 
agreeable,  "  to  subject  you  to  the  influence 
of  that  dreary  dwelling.  No  one  enters  it, 
even  to  care  for  it — no  one,"  she  repeated, 
emphatically. 

"And  yet,"  I  said,  in  a  lowered  tone, — 
for  Franklin,  probably  glad  to  shift  upon 
other  shoulders  the  burden  of  a  theme  he 
95 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

shrank  from  discussing,  had  moved  away 
and  was  busying  himself  about  the  table, 
and  I  did  not  wish  him  to  catch  my 
words, — "  as  I  came  up  the  avenue  this 
evening  I  am  sure  I  saw  the  glimmer  of 
a  light  in  the  house." 

If  she  was  in  any  way  concerned  in  the 
mystery,  she  was  too  wary  to  be  caught 
napping.  Her  air  of  mingled  surprise  and 
incredulity  was  inimitable,  and  if  she  was 
acting  a  part  I  thought  she  possessed  a  rare 
gift  of  dissembling. 

"Oh,  that  could  not  be  !"  she  said;  "un 
less,  indeed,  the  Stone  House  is  becoming 
haunted." 

I  laughed,  and  went  back  to  Madam, 
wondering,  as  I  went,  if  she  perhaps  thought 
to  arouse  in  me  superstitious  fears,  thinking 
that  if  she  succeeded  I  should  of  my  own 
accord  give  up  protracted  wanderings  which 
would  oblige  me  to  pass  the  dismal  dwelling 
after  nightfall. 

Two  weeks  passed  without  further  event, 
and  I  was  about  concluding  that  I  had  really 

imagined  the  singular   incidents  which  had 
96 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

aroused  my  suspicion,  when  they  received 
fresh  confirmation. 

I  had  been  reading  one  evening  to  Madam, 
and  later  she  had  fallen  into  a  somewhat 
confidential  mood  with  me,  and  had  dwelt 
at  some  length  upon  the  character  of  her 
son,  whose  advent  we  were  now  expecting 
from  day  to  day.  She  spoke  of  him  in  flat 
tering  terms,  yet  in  a  sort  of  strange  and  dis 
tant  way,  that  appeared  to  me  unlike  the 
usual  attitude  of  mother  to  son.  Mingled 
with  the  strong  admiration  which  marked 
her  regard  for  him  there  was  a  kind  of  veiled 
respect  such  as  we  accord  our  superiors,  but 
which  we  rarely  testify  towards  our  equals. 
It  evinced  an  aloofness  in  intimate  sympa 
thy,  I  thought,  and  it  created  in  me  a  feel 
ing  of  awe  of  the  man  who  had  inspired 
such  sentiments  in  one  so  near  as  a  mother. 

"  Dorothy,"  she  said,  "  you  will  soon  see 
one  of  the  noblest  men  that  I  have  ever 
known.  He  is  not  handsome,  my  son  Dar- 
racott,  and  you  will  not  perhaps  be  able  to 
discover  in  him  the  outward  semblance  of  a 
hero.  But  learn  to  know  him  well,  see  him 
7  97 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

tested  by  experience,  and  you  will  feel,  as  I 
do,  that  the  world  seldom  produces  men  of 
such  a  type  as  his." 

"And  yet  you  do  not  love  him,"  I  felt 
like  saying,  though,  of  course,  I  gave  no 
such  license  to  my  speech. 

When  I  returned  to  my  own  rooms  for 
the  night,  I  put  on  a  loose  wrapper,  and,  as 
was  my  custom,  seated  myself  beside  my 
comfortable  fire  for  an  hour's  reading  before 
going  to  bed.  But  my  thoughts  refused  to 
centre  themselves  upon  my  book.  I  felt  it 
borne  in  upon  me  that  I  was  living  a 
romance  amid  an  environment  of  strange 
shadow  and  mystery.  I  could  spare  no 
thought  for  the  consideration  of  fictitious 
narrative. 

Who  was  this  man  who  was  so  soon  to 
invade  the  seclusion  of  our  lives  here  in  this 
old  mansion4?  I  knew  his  name  and  his 
relationship  to  my  mistress,  but  who  was 
he?  Of  what  characteristics  was  he  com 
posed  *?  What  was  his  nature ;  what  were 
his  habits ;  what  his  likes  and  dislikes ;  his 
tastes,  sympathies,  prejudices'?  Would  his 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

presence  in  the  house  constrain  me  *?  Would 
my  society  be  unwelcome  to  him  *?  What 
could  be  the  cause  of  the  incompatibility 
between  him  and  Madam"?  These  and 
kindred  reflections  were  occupying  my  mind 
when  a  timid  knock  at  my  door  brought  me 
back  from  dreamland. 

"  Come  in,"  I  called.  The  handle  turned, 
and  Mrs.  Mayberry  appeared  upon  the  thresh 
old.  I  urged  her  to  enter,  and  she  did  so, 
carefully  closing  the  door  behind  her.  Her 
face  was  even  whiter  than  usual,  and  I  could 
see  that  there  was  an  intense  tremulousness 
in  all  her  muscles,  which  she  only  com 
manded  by  immense  effort. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you,  Miss  Lothrop," 
she  said,  and  I  observed  that  she  was  glad  to 
steady  herself  by  the  support  of  the  back  of 
a  chair,  "  but  I  have  no  one  else  to  go  to,  as 
I  never  trouble  Madam  with  domestic,  mat 
ters.  One  of  the  maids  has  burst  a  blood 
vessel,  and  I  do  not  know  what  remedies  to 
apply.  I  have  had  no  experience  in  similar 
cases,  and  I  thought  you  might  be  able  to 
offer  me  some  suggestion." 

99 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

I  rose  at  once  from  my  chair.  At  first  it 
did  not  occur  to  me  that  the  woman  was  not 
speaking  the  literal  truth.  I  had  a  horror  of 
blood  myself,  and  thought  her  unusual  agita 
tion  was  due  to  a  like  sentiment.  My  impulse 
was  to  go  to  the  sufferer. 

"  Has  the  hemorrhage  stopped  *?"  I  asked. 

"  Nearly,"  she  replied. 

"  I  will  go  to  her  at  once,"  I  said.  "  My 
father  died  of  consumption  ;  I  am  perfectly 
informed  regarding  the  proper  remedies. 
Come." 

I  spoke  somewhat  peremptorily,  as  one 
having  authority ;  but  she  made  no  motion 
of  compliance.  Indeed,  she  stretched  out  a 
hand  as  if  to  detain  me. 

"  No,"  she  responded  ;  "  tell  me  what  to  do. 
The  girl  is  of  a  strange  disposition  ;  she  has 
begged  me  to  allow  no  one  to  come  near  her." 

"  That  is  nonsense !"  I  returned,  impa 
tiently.  "  Of  course  she  must  have  proper 
medical  attention  at  once.  All  I  can  do  is 
to  suggest  temporary  relief.  You  must  wake 
Holmes  (the  gardener)  and  despatch  him  for 
Dr.  Spencer." 


100 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Dr.  Spencer  !"  There  was  a  wildness  in 
the  ejaculation  that  first  awoke  my  doubts 
of  her  story.  She  gave  a  hoarse,  hysterical 
little  laugh  that  struck  painfully  on  the  ear ; 
it  suggested  a  pathetically  overwrought  con 
dition. 

"  Yes,  Dr.  Spencer,"  I  repeated.  "  I  would 
not  take  the  responsibility  of  this  woman's 
life  into  my  hands." 

Even  I,  prejudiced  against  her  as  I  was, 
melted  beneath  the  tragic  alarm  that  came 
into  her  glance  as  I  spoke  !  It  was  apparent 
that  my  words  first  gave  her  cause  for  grave 
apprehension. 

"  Is  it  so  dangerous  as  that  *?"  she  mut 
tered. 

I  nodded.  She  wrung  her  hands  in  dis 
tress. 

"  Even  then  he  must  not  come,"  she  said. 

"  How  foolish  !"  I  exclaimed,  out  of  pa 
tience  at  the  delay.  "  As  if  Madam  would 
permit  any  sentimental  considerations  to 
stand  in  the  way  of  such  necessity  as  this. 
Besides,  she  need  not  see  the  doctor  at  all. 
Indeed,  she  need  not  even  know  that  he  is 

101 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

here,  until  he  is  gone.  I  will  take  all  the 
responsibility  of  his  coming  upon  my  own 
shoulders.  You  need  not  fear  Madam." 

It  seemed  as  if  my  words  had  suggested  a 
welcome  excuse  to  her. 

"  Yes,  I  fear  Madam ;  it  is  that,"  she  re 
sponded,  with  obstinate  firmness.  "  I  must 
not  send  for  him ;  Madam  would  not  like 
it." 

"  You  are  a  fool !"  I  cried,  at  the  end  of 
my  forbearance.  "  Then,  if  you  will  have  it 
so,  I  shall  go  myself  to  Madam,  and  ask  her 
permission.  I  will  not  consent  to  allow  you 
to  trifle  with  the  life  of  a  fellow-being  so 
nonsensically.  Let  me  go,  Mayberry !  I 
command  it !" 

For  she  had  thrown  herself  in  most  melo 
dramatic  fashion  upon  my  skirts,  and  was 
holding  me  fast  with  her  poor  thin  weak 
hands. 

"  You  must  not  go — you  shall  not !"  she 
exclaimed.  "  You  do  not  know  the  reason 
why  Dr.  Spencer  never  comes  to  this  house, 
do  you  *?  I  see  by  your  look  you  don't. 
Then  let  me  tell  you  that  Madam  would 


MADAM   OF  THE  IVIES 

rather  die  than  have  him  enter  her  doors. 
Now  will  you  be  satisfied?" 

Although  at  the  time  I  had  not  much 
confidence  in  her  statement,  yet  her  agitation 
was  so  great  and  sincere  that  I  had  not  the 
courage  to  insist  upon  a  suggestion  which 
carried  such  terror  with  it. 

"  I  wash  my  hands  of  you,"  I  said.  "  If 
this  girl  dies  I  shall  lay  her  death  at  your 
door.  You  will  neither  send  for  the  doctor 
nor  will  you  let  me  see  her.  There  is  some 
mystery  at  work  here  ;  I  am  sure  of  it ;  and 
I  tell  you  frankly  that  when  Mr.  Chester 
comes  I  shall  share  my  suspicions  with  him. 
Now  I  will  describe  what  you  are  to  do  for 
the  maid." 

The  misery  in  her  face  was  appalling. 

"  Miss  Lothrop,"  she  burst  forth,  with 
tears  of  agony  coursing  down  her  seamed 
cheeks,  "  what  have  I  done  to  you  that  you 
should  hunt  me  like  this  *?  Haven't  I  tried 
to  make  you  comfortable  ever  since  you 
came  to  The  Ivies?  Haven't  I  waited  on 
you  to  the  best  of  my  power  ?  Haven't  I 

studied   all   your  wants   and  tried  to  fulfil 
103 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

them  ?  Have  I  ever  caused  you  annoyance, 
or  have  I  been  in  any  way  disrespectful  *?  If 
I  have  not  been  all  I  should  be  to  you,  tell 
me,  and  I  will  humbly  beg  your  pardon. 
There  must  be  some  reason  why  you  are 
bent  on  persecuting  me." 

"  You  are  talking  nonsense !"  I  returned, 
firmly,  yet  feeling  a  little  shamefaced,  never 
theless,  for  it  was  true  that  she  had  rendered 
me  every  attention  since  I  had  made  one  of 
the  household.  "  It  is  no  personal  motive  that 
influences  me  against  the  course  of  conduct 
you  are  pursuing,  but  an  aversion  to  secret 
proceedings  in  general.  I  feel  that  my  duty 
to  Madam  impels  me  to  discover  to  her  your 
strange  and  incomprehensible  actions." 

The  dwarfed  creature  drew  herself  up,  with 
a  look  of  passionate  adoration  upon  her  face 
that  positively  ennobled  it.  For  a  brief 
moment  she  seemed  invested  with  absolute 
dignity  of  bearing. 

"  And  I,"  she  responded,  in  a  tone  as  firm 
as  my  own,  if  less  musical,  "  I  feel  that  my 
duty  to  Madam  impels  me  to  sacrifice  more 

than  my  life  itself  to  conceal  from  her  the 
104 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

motive  for  these  actions.  More  than  this  I 
cannot  say.  But  let  me  warn  you,  Miss 
Lothrop,  that  if  you  meddle  in  matters  of 
which  you  know  nothing,  you  will  some 
day  live  to  repent  it.  Now  I  must  go.  Will 
you  be  so  good  as  to  tell  me  what  I  must  do 
for  my  patient  *?" 

Once  more  she  was  the  servile  dependant. 
I  sketched  a  line  of  action  for  her,  and  she 
took  her  departure,  hoarsely  murmuring  her 
thanks  as  she  went. 

In  the  morning  I  asked  Franklin  how  his 
niece  was,  and,  as  I  suspected,  evoked  his 
surprise  by  my  inquiry.  Neither  of  the 
women  was  ill ;  why  had  I  thought  that 
such  was  the  case?  I  evaded  his  question. 
In  the  course  of  the  morning  an  event  oc 
curred  which,  for  a  time,  eclir.  sed  all  recol 
lection  of  Mayberry's  queer  pioceedings. 

I  was  engaged  in  singing  to  Madam  about 
eleven  o'clock.  We  were  wont  to  vary  our 
occupations  by  a  little  music,  of  which  she 
was  passionately  fond.  She  had,  in  especial, 
a  liking  for  old  ballads,  although  she  had 
also  a  classical  taste,  and  was  well  acquainted 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

with  the  works  of  modern  composers.  I  had 
been  singing  an  old  English  song,  "  She 
wandered  down  the  mountain-side,"  and 
the  vibration  of  my  voice  was  still  echoing 
through  the  room,  when  a  knock  came  upon 
the  door.  I  rose,  as  was  my  custom,  to  an 
swer  it.  I  expected  to  find  either  Franklin 
or  Mayberry  standing  without,  but,  to  my 
amazement,  my  eyes  fell  upon  the  figure  of 
a  stranger !  It  did  not  require  wonderful 
intuition  to  tell  me  who  stood  before  me,  but 
my  first  thought  was  for  Madam.  I  feared 
for  the  effect  of  this  surprise ;  therefore  I 
acted  as  if  I  had  a  right  to  govern  the  con 
duct  of  the  new-comer.  Quickly  glancing 
at  my  beloved  mistress,  who  sat,  calm  and 
unsuspecting,  with  her  gaze  turned  full  upon 
us,  and  her  mind  obviously  still  beneath  the 
spell  of  the  ballad,  I  placed  a  warning  finger 
on  my  lips,  and  with  my  other  hand  with 
held  the  stranger  from  entering  the  room.  I 
felt  that  I  must  prepare  Madam. 

I  was  but  an  instant  thus  hesitating,  but 
in  that  instant  Madam  awoke  from  her 
abstraction. 

106 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Did  I  not  hear  a  knock,  Dorothy  ?"  she 
asked.  "  I  thought  you  opened  the  door, 
child.  I  feel  that  it  is  still  open.  What 
is  it?" 

There  is  certainly  a  prescience  in  maternal 
affection.  Before  the  man  had  time  to  obey 
the  impulse  which  I  saw  I  could  no  longer 
restrain,  so  fearful  had  been  the  effect  upon 
him  of  that  manifestation  of  the  awful  afflic 
tion  which  had  come  upon  his  mother 
during  her  wretched  loneliness,  she  had  cried 
out  his  name — cried  it  with  an  intonation 
that  gave  the  lie  to  my  conclusion  that  there 
was  no  love  for  him  in  her  heart.  In  another 
moment  his  arms  were  about  her,  and  I  was 
standing  upon  the  other  side  of  the  closed 
door. 

The  home-coming  of  its  master  naturally 
made  a  considerable  difference  in  the  simple 
domestic  routine  of  The  Ivies.  A  more 
ceremonious  manner  of  living  always  fol 
lows  upon  the  installation  of  a  male  head  of 
a  household.  Madam  and  I  had  preferred 
informality  ;  Darracott  Chester,  although  a 

man  of  few  requirements,  wished  those  re- 

107 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

quirements  properly  fulfilled.  Our  house 
hold  began  to  broaden  itself  out ;  unused 
rooms  were  denuded  of  their  swathings  and 
opened  to  the  light  of  day ;  more  elaborate 
and  more  numerous  courses  were  served  at 
meals,  which  now  became  a  function  rather 
than  an  incident  of  our  days ;  the  stables  re 
ceived  fresh  accessions,  and  an  air  of  birth  or 
resurrection,  rather  than  the  customary  one 
of  death  and  decay,  began  to  invest  the  place. 
As  for  my  dear  lady  herself,  I  could  see  that 
the  return  of  her  son  had  brought  a  living 
interest  into  her  existence  to  which  she  had 
long  been  a  stranger. 


1 08 


CHAPTER    VI. 

TT  was  not  a  great  while  before  the  news  of 
Darracott  Chester's  return  crept  through 
the  neighbourhood.  By  degrees  former  ac 
quaintances  presented  themselves  at  The 
Ivies,  and  these  no  longer  found  their  in 
quiries  greeted  by  the  old  formula  of  exclu 
sion.  Presently  it  seemed  to  me  that  every 
one  within  a  radius  of  twenty  miles  had 
called,  with  the  exception  of  Dr.  Spencer 
and  his  mother.  They  only,  of  all  whom  I 
visited,  refrained  from  asking  news  of  the 
traveller  or  mentioning  him  in  any  connec 
tion.  And  yet  I  knew  that  formerly  David 
Spencer  and  Darracott  Chester  had  been 
close  friends.  What  had  caused  the  breach 
between  them1? 

,  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  Madam  had 
prepared  me  for  the  absence  of  heroic  attri 
butes  in  her  son's  appearance,  I  was  distinctly 

disappointed  in  him  at  first  sight.     He  was 
109 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

neither  tall  nor  short,  graceful  nor  awkward, 
handsome  nor  homely.  My  first  impression 
of  him  was  one  of  exceeding  mediocrity. 
Meeting  him  in  the  street,  I  should  never 
have  glanced  at  him  twice,  nor  have  be 
stowed  a  second  thought  upon  him.  Meet 
ing  him  in  the  close  familiarity  of  daily  in 
tercourse,  I  looked  at  him  many  times,  and 
soon  grew  to  think  of  him  with  a  fair  degree 
of  exclusiveness. 

I  am  going  to  make  no  secret  of  his  at 
traction  for  me.  I  am  not  the  heroine  of 
this  story,  and  my  love  affairs  are  merely  in 
cidental  to  the  true  narrative.  I  shall  be 
honest  and  frank  at  the  outset  of  my  ac 
quaintance  with  Darracott,  and  take  the 
reader  immediately  into  my  confidence,  ac 
knowledging  with  no  false  modesty  or  re 
serve  that  I  had  not  been  thirty-six  hours 
beneath  the  same  roof  with  him  before  I 
had  wholly  changed  my  first  impressions  of 
him,  and  had  fallen  under  the  charm  of  his 
personality. 

This  personality  was  strangely  com 
pounded.  It  was  an  odd  mixture  of  con- 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

tradictory  qualities ;  and  this  peculiar  in 
congruity  possibly  was  the  reason  of  the 
fascination  it  exerted  over  those  who  came 
to  know  him  well.  I  do  not  think  that 
strangers  cared  for  him  at  all,  nor  do  I  think 
that  young  girls  in  general  would  have  found 
him  interesting.  For  there  was  nothing  of 
the  haughty  and  mysterious  hero  about  him. 
He  was  a  silent  and,  in  company,  an  indif 
ferent  man.  He  had  certain  tastes  which 
strongly  appealed  to  him,  and  concerning 
which  he  waxed  enthusiastic.  Beyond  these 
tastes  he  appeared  to  feel  little  interest  in 
life,  and  after  I  came  to  know  him  well  I 
often  remonstrated  with  him  because  he  did 
not  exert  himself  to  be  more  generally  en 
tertaining.  But  he  had  done  with  that  sort 
of  thing,  he  would  reply ;  he  was  growing 
an  old  man  (he  was,  in  point  of  fact,  thirty- 
nine  years  old),  and  he  meant  in  future  merely 
to  humour  his  own  inclinations. 

This  would  give  one  the  impression  that 
he  was  a  selfish  man,  while,  in  truth,  self  was 
his  last  consideration.  One  of  the  charac 
teristics  which  most  won  me  to  him  was  a 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

rare  and  never-failing  thoughtfulness,  which 
anticipated  the  need  of  others  almost  before 
it  was  experienced.  Yet  I  felt  it  illustrative 
of  the  contrariety  of  his  nature  that,  while  so 
considerate  of  the  small  requirements  of  those 
about  him,  he  could  yet  have  left  one  to 
whom  he  was  bound  by  the  closest  ties  of  na 
ture  to  a  desolate,  lonely,  and  bereft  old  age. 

One  morning,  after  Darracott  had  been  at 
home  some  ten  days,  I  received  a  note  from 
Mrs.  Spencer,  containing  an  invitation,  or 
rather  a  request,  that  I  should  dine  and  pass 
the  evening  of  the  following  day  with  them. 

"  We  feel  sadly  forsaken  of  late,"  she 
wrote.  "  David  has  grown  dull  and  dispir 
ited,  and  I  am  too  old  a  story  to  entertain 
him.  Do  come  and  cheer  us  up,  there's  a 
good  child.  David  will  bring  you  safely 
home,  if  you  will  allow  him  to  do  so." 

It  happened  that,  as  I  was  presenting  the 
case  to  Madam,  and  asking  for  leave  of 
absence,  her  son  entered  the  room.  Ob 
serving  that  I  was  reading  a  letter,  he  was 
about  to  withdraw  with  a  word  of  apology, 
when  I  prevented  him. 


112 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  It  is  nothing  but  a  note  of  invitation,"  I 
said.  "  Do  not  go.  I  shall  be  through  in  a 
moment.  May  I  finish*?" 

As  I  concluded  the  note  I  discovered  that 
he  was  regarding  me  with  a  look  of  unusual 
interest  in  his  eyes. 

"  So  you  are  a  familiar  friend  of  the  Spen 
cers,"  he  remarked.  "  How  are  they — David 
and  his  mother  *?" 

"Well,"  I  answered.  "Shall  I  go, 
Madam*?" 

"  Of  course,  my  child." 

"  Do  you  really  think  you  are  capable  of 
cheering  up  a  man  *?"  Darracott  asked,  in  a 
bantering  tone.  "  I  have  not  seen  Spencer 
for  years ;  is  he  become  one  of  the  lugu 
brious  sort4?" 

I  repudiated  the  suggestion  with  so  much 
spirit  that  perhaps  the  warmth  of  my  man 
ner  implied  a  particular  interest  in  the  man  I 
was  defending,  for  my  interlocutor  laughed 
knowingly,  which  so  filled  me  with  a  desire 
to  prove  indifference  to  David  Spencer  that 
I  was  inspired  to  make  a  most  unusual  re 
quest  of  my  mistress. 

8  113 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Could  Holmes  drive  in  for  me  about  ten 
o'clock,  Madam,"  I  asked.  "  I  should  pre 
fer  not  to  trouble  Dr.  Spencer  to  see  me 
home." 

She  gave  a  ready  assent,  but  her  son  con 
tinued  to  tease  me  by  begging  me  to  con 
sider  the  doctor's  disappointment. 

"  You  will  simply  be  forced  to  go  back 
the  next  day  and  cheer  him  up  again  !"  he 
protested.  "  What  a  mission  you  have  found 
in  life,  Miss  Lothrop  !  Mother,  you  are  not 
half  so  solicitous  for  my  welfare  as  Mrs. 
Spencer  is  for  David's.  I  have  never  heard 
you  suggest  that  Miss  Lothrop  should  exert 
herself  to  cheer  me  up.  Why  is  it  *?  Have 
I  not  as  great  need  of  cheering  as  David 
Spencer,  or  is  it  that  there  is  a  difference  in  the 
solicitude  of  mothers  ?" 

His  tone,  which  had  been  of  a  jesting 
character  in  the  beginning  of  his  speech,  had 
grown  hard  and  bitter  as  he  concluded.  I 
saw  there  was  some  reminiscence,  plain  to 
his  mother,  but  uncomprehended  by  me, 
that  gave  sharp  and  stinging  emphasis  to  his 

otherwise   careless  words.      Before    he  had 
114 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

fairly  finished  speaking,  however,  I  knew  that 
he  repented  his  cruelty.  Nothing  less  than 
cruelty  could  have  produced  so  distressing 
an  effect  upon  Madam.  She  was  not  one  to 
display  emotional  disturbance,  unless  for 
some  grave  reason,  but  now  her  features 
worked  convulsively,  her  cheeks  turned  to 
an  ashen  pallor,  and  her  hands  clasped  each 
other  tightly,  while  her  sightless  eyes  fell 
abashed  to  the  floor  like  those  of  a  child 
who  has  been  detected  in  a  flagrant  fault. 

I  knew  that  I  had  no  right  to  interpose 
between  mother  and  son,  but  the  contem 
plation  of  that  tacit  acknowledgment  of 
error,  of  the  self-abasement  of  my  beloved 
lady,  proved  too  much  for  my  sense  of  pro 
priety.  I  flew  to  her  side  and,  falling  on  my 
knees,  threw  a  protecting  arm  about  her 
drooping  shoulders. 

"  You  are  a  coward  !"  I  cried,  turning  an 
enraged,  reproachful  face  upon  the  master  of 
the  house,  beneath  whose  roof  I  was  merely 
a  hired  dependant.  "  You  are  worse  than 
that. ;  you  are  brutal  and  unmanly,  to  dis 
tress  by  your  veiled  insinuations  one  who, 
"5 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

through  affliction  if  not  through  relationship, 
should  be  sacred  from  your  shafts.  Madam, 

Madam,  do  not  heed "  But  my  dear 

lady  had  by  this  time  recovered  herself,  and 
I  was  interrupted  by  the  placing  of  a  soft 
hand  over  my  impetuous  lips. 

"  Dorothy,  Dorothy,  hush  !"  she  entreated. 
"  You  know  nothing  about  it,  my  child.  I 
deserve  it  all — and  more.  Nay,  Dare,  my 
son," — oh  !  what  an  infinity  of  tenderness  and 
remorse  was  there  in  the  gentle  voice  as  it 
addressed  the  man  who,  repentant  and  eager 
to  atone,  approached  with  a  preliminary 
ejaculation  of  "  Mother  !" — "  nay,  you  need 
not  seek  to  make  amends  for  your  just  im 
plications  ;  they  are  grounded  on  fact ;  it  is 
but  common  retribution  that  I  should  be  re 
minded  of  my  sin." 

But  the  man,  upright  and  honest  in  his 
acknowledgment  of  error,  would  not  allow 
his  culpability  to  be  thus  condoned.  His 
manliness  had  been  stirred  to  bitter  self- 
revolt  even  before  I  had  made  my  attack 
upon  him,  and  his  self-respect  would  not 

permit  itself  to  be  satisfied  without  apology. 
1x6 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  You  are  too  lenient  to  me,  my  mother," 
he  returned,  and  his  voice  was  very  deep 
and  grave.  "  With  all  her  ignorance,  Miss 
Lothrop  is  the  better  judge  of  my  conduct. 
Before  her,  I  wish  to  assure  you  of  my  deep 
regret  and  sincere  sorrow  for  my  miserable 
and  gratuitous  reflections  upon  the  past,  and 
to  ask  you  to  pardon  my  lack  of  considera 
tion  and  respect." 

The  words  were  well  enough,  and  they 
were  uttered  with  a  certain  emotion  ;  but  I 
felt  that  one  kiss  laid  upon  the  faded  cheek, 
one  loving  touch  of  the  bowed  form,  would 
have  been  worth  all  the  correct  apologies  in 
the  world  to  Madam.  She  sighed  and  ex 
tended  her  beautiful  hand  to  him,  and  he 
raised  it  with  graceful  courtesy  to  his  lips.  I 
was  much  abashed,  now  that  the  moment  of 
excitement  was  over,  at  the  thought  of  my 
outbreak.  Yet  I  was  too  proud,  and  still 
too  resentful  of  his  treatment  of  Madam,  to 
acknowledge  my  want  of  proper  decorum. 
But  after  he  had  left  the  room,  which  he  did 
almost  immediately,  I  made  my  excuses  to 

my  mistress. 

117 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

I  spent  a  charming  evening  at  the  Spen 
cers'.  Both  mother  and  son  were  in  good 
spirits,  and  the  hours  sped  rapidly  away.  I 
told  Dr.  Spencer  that  I  had  arranged  to  have 
Holmes  come  for  me,  and,  probably  under 
standing  my  motive,  he  considerately  made 
no  comment  on  the  arrangement.  I  must 
not  forget,  by  the  way,  to  mention  a  little 
incident  which  occurred  before  I  set  out  for 
my  visit. 

Franklin  had  come  to  my  room  during 
the  afternoon  with  a  very  distressed  face. 

"  Miss  Lothrop,"  he  began,  "  I  am  afraid 
we  are  going  to  have  trouble  with  the  new 
servants.  They  and  Mrs.  Mayberry  are  all 
at  odds,  and  there's  rowing  below-stairs  about 
all  the  time." 

"  What  seems  to  be  the  trouble  *?"  I  asked. 
"  What  do  they  complain  of?" 

"  They  don't  complain  exactly,"  he  re 
plied.  "  But  they've  taken  it  into  their 
heads — the  stupid  fools  ! — that  the  Stone 
House  is  haunted,  and  the  idea  sends  May- 
berry  into  fits.  She  gets  regularly  violent 
when  they  talk  about  it,  and  they  talk  more 

118 


MADAM   OF   THE  IVIES 

than  they  otherwise  would  simply  to  tease 
her." 

"  H'm  !"  I -murmured.  "  I  wonder  what 
they  say  about  the  house ;  do  you  know, 
Franklin  «" 

"  Well,  miss,  they  do  say  that  when  they 
come  home  from  the  village  at  night — a 
couple  of  them  have  families  living  in 
Eldon,  and  they  go  back  and  forth  often — 
they  sometimes  see  a  ghostly  figure  standing 
at  one  of  the  windows  and  hear  a  woman's 
voice  singing  or  screeching  in  the  house. 
It's  nonsense,  miss,  of  course,  but  it  may  in 
time  make  it  impossible  for  my  mistress  to 
secure  servants  willing  to  live  here." 

"  And  what  does  Mayberry  have  to  say  to 
all  this?" 

"  She  gets  quite  violent  and  excited,  miss, 
and  calls  them  hard  names.  She's  changed 
a  good  bit  of  late,  Mrs.  Mayberry  has.  I 
I  wouldn't  like  to  say  it  to  anyone  but  you, 
Miss  Lothrop,  but  she  really  does  not  prop 
erly  attend  to  her  duties  in  the  house  here, 
and  I  am  obliged  to  look  after  things  a  good 

deal  more  closely  than  my  position  requires, 
119 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

for  fear  my  mistress  and  Mr.  Chester  will 
not  be  properly  cared  for." 

I  chewed  the  cud  of  this  reflection  as  I 
strolled  down  to  the  village.  I,  of  course, 
had  detected  long  since  the  change  in  the 
housekeeper,  but  it  was  not  my  place  to 
comment  upon  it.  Since  the  night  when  I 
had  received  her  appeal  for  advice  I  had 
very  seldom  come  in  contact  with  her,  and 
new  interests  at  The  Ivies  had  rendered  me 
somewhat  inattentive  to  the  claims  of  my 
village  friends  and  pensioners,  so  that  I  had 
had  little  occasion  to  dwell  upon  the  thought 
of  the  Stone  House  or  its  singular  mani 
festations.  I  would  have  loved  dearly  to 
take  my  kind  hosts  into  my  confidence  this 
evening,  and  ask  their  advice  as  to  the  whole 
affair,  but  I  had  never  broken  through  my 
rule  not  to  gossip  with  anyone  of  events 
connected  with  my  life  at  The  Ivies. 

About  ten  o'clock  I  heard  the  sound  of 
wheels  stopping  before  the  doctor's  gate,  and 
prepared  to  depart. 

"  Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  call  out  to 
Holmes  that  I  am  coming  *?"  I  suggested 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

to  my  host ;  "  it  will  save  the  old  man's 
getting  out." 

He  complied,  and,  a  few  moments  later, 
accompanied  me  out  to  the  carriage.  I  was 
surprised  to  discover  that  the  dog-cart  had 
been  sent  for  me,  but  my  surprise  was  greatly 
increased  when  I  saw  that  Darracott  Chester 
himself  had  come  to  drive  me  home.  I  felt 
a  momentary  awkwardness  at  the  prospect 
of  a  meeting  between  two  men  who,  I  was 
convinced,  no  longer  entertained  feelings  of 
friendship  for  each  other,  but  I  might  have 
spared  myself  needless  worry,  for  they  sa 
luted  each  other  with  polite,  if  distant,  cour 
tesy.  I  mounted  the  cart  and  we  drove 
rapidly  away. 

I  had  felt  constrained  in  the  society  of 
Darracott  ever  since  the  scene  of  the  pre 
ceding  day,  and  I  had  sought  to  avoid 
him  as  much  as  possible.  I  had  a  guilty 
consciousness  of  having  gone  beyond  my 
province  in  taking  up  the  cudgels  in  Madam's 
defence,  and  I  was  well  aware  that,  righteous 
though  my  indignation  was,  there  had  been 
no  warrant  for  my  exhibiting  it.  But  I  can- 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

not  feel  easy  in  the  position  of  debtor,  and  I 
knew  that  I  owed  the  man  beside  me  an 
apology. 

I  made  one  or  two  tentative  remarks, 
hoping  to  open  up  a  channel  through  which 
I  could  glide  easily  and  gracefully  into  the 
broad  waters  of  general  regret  for  any  over- 
zealous  manifestation  of  my  exceeding  love 
for  my  mistress,  thinking  that  so  I  could 
vindicate  my  late  imprudence  without  actual 
self-humiliation.  But  in  some  inscrutable 
fashion,  effective,  but  apparently  careless  in 
design,  my  companion  turned  the  drift  of 
my  attempts  quite  away  from  their  goal. 
At  last  I  was  forced  to  come  boldly  to  the 
point. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  have  come  for 
me  to-night,  Mr.  Chester,"  I  said.  "  I  look 
upon  the  attention  as  a  mark  of  your  for 
giveness." 

"  For  what  ?"  he  asked,  and  I  saw  he  was 
determined  to  force  an  issue. 

"  For  my  failure  in  respect  towards  you 
yesterday,"  I  murmured. 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  need 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

forgiveness  on  that  account,"  he  replied. 
"  If  a  man's  conduct  is  such  that  it  arouses 
the  scorn  of  others,  he  would  be  singularly 
unreasonable  to  hold  them  responsible  for 
manifesting  their  just  contempt." 

"  But  a  dependant  should  better  exercise 
self-control,"  I  returned.  "  I  should  remem 
ber  that  I  was  not  engaged  to  discipline  the 
morals  or  the  manners  of  the  household.  It 
was  the  place  of  the  mistress,  not  of  the  ser 
vant,  to  resent  your  cruel  words  ;  for  they 
were  cruel,  you  know,  Mr.  Chester." 

He  nodded  his  head,  and  in  the  moonlight 
I  saw  a  bitter  expression  settle  about  his 
mouth. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  they  were — I  suppose." 

"  You  suppose !"  I  cried,  a  little  hotly,  tor 
memory  brought  before  my  eyes  the  vision 
of  my  dear  lady  as  she  had  looked  when 
those  words  were  uttered.  "  Of  course  they 
were  cruel !  And  to  Madam — of  all  per 
sons  in  this  world  !  To  Madam — who  can 
never  have  caused  pain  to  the  smallest  of 
living  things !" 

He  turned  and  looked  at  me.     His  brow 
123 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

was  a  little  lifted,  and  there  was  a  quizzical 
and  yet  stern  smile  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  am  a  man  of  average  proportions,  Miss 
Lothrop ;  scarcely  infinitesimal  enough  to 
be  reckoned  outside  your  category." 

"  You  mean "  I  paused  in  amaze 
ment,  absolutely  unable  to  construe  him. 

"  I  mean,"  he  replied,  quickly,  and  with  a 
hard,  metallic  ring  in  his  voice,  "  that  no  one 
living  in  this  world  to-day  has  ever  caused 
me  pain  and  suffering  equal  to  that  which 
my  mother  has  inflicted  upon  me." 

"  Oh  !"  I  cried,  protestingly  ;  "  I  cannot — 
no,  I  cannot  believe  it.  If  it  is  so,  it  was  an 
unconscious  act  on  her  part." 

He  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  he  answered.  "  Invol 
untary,  perhaps  ;  but  not  unconscious.  She 
is  aware  of  it." 

"  Then  she  is  deeply  repentant  also,"  I 
said,  recalling  now  the  peculiarities  which  I 
had  noted  in  Madam's  regard  for  her  only 
son. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  One  does  not  sincerely  repent  a  cruelty 
124 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

while  still  practising  it,"  he  returned,  sen- 
tentiously. 

My  love  and  veneration  for  Madam  flared 
up  hotly  at  this. 

"  You  calumniate  her !"  I  burst  forth. 
"  It  is  treason  for  me  to  discuss  her  with  you. 
Let  us  change  the  subject,  Mr.  Chester. 
You  are  wounding  me  beyond  words." 

We  were  turning  into  the  avenue  as  I 
spoke,  and  he  curbed  the  eager  pace  of  the 
horse  into  a  walk  before  he  answered.  Then, 
letting  the  rains  fall  slack  on  the  animal's 
back,  he  turned  sideways  on  the  seat  and 
looked  squarely  and  earnestly  down  upon 
me. 

"  Miss  Lothrop,"  he  began, — and  there  was 
no  longer  either  bitterness  or  cynicism  in  his 
voice,  only  gravity  and  obviously  controlled 
emotion, — "  it  is  not  my  habit  to  discuss  my 
mother  or  my  own  feelings  and  sentiments 
with  others.  But  neither  is  it  my  habit  so 
to  forget  myself  as  I  did  yesterday.  If  that 
incident  had  taken  place  before  almost  any 
one  else  in  the  world  I  should  have  been  too 

proud  or  too  indifferent  to  attempt  to  justify 
125 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

myself;  but  with  you  it  is  different.  What 
you  have  done  for  my  mother  has  given  you 
a  claim  upon  my  regard  second  to  none  in 
the  world.  I  cannot  bear  you  to  think  me 
wantonly  and  wilfully  cruel.  I  hold  myself 
generally  pretty  well  in  hand  ;  but  yesterday 
some  devil  got  inside  me  while  you  were 
reading  that  letter  and  pulled  all  the  pins  out 
of  my  self-command.  Perhaps  I  was  jealous 
of  the  claims  of  others  upon  that  cheeriness 
which  has  brought  new  life  within  our  old 
walls," — he  made  an  effort  to  lighten  his  tone 
a  bit,  but  a  rather  unsuccessful  one, — "  or 
perhaps  your  reference  to  your  friends  in  the 
village  brought  back  to  my  mind  wretched 
memories  which  undid  me." 

He  broke  off  abruptly.  I  made  no  reply. 
What  was  there  for  me  to  say  *?  The  horse 
was  walking  slowly  up  the  avenue.  The 
moon  had  gone  under  a  cloud.  My  heart  was 
beating  violently,  partly  in  unaltered  cham 
pionship  of  the  mother's  cause,  partly  in  sym 
pathy  with  the  son's  wrong,  of  whose  nature 
I  was  still  ignorant ;  partly  in  accord  with  the 

mystery  and  romance  of  our  surroundings. 
126 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

Finally,  my  companion  again  broke  the 
silence. 

"  You  say  nothing,  Miss  Lothrop  !  Ap 
parently  I  am  not  a  very  good  special  pleader 
in  my  own  behalf.  You  cannot  yet  find  it 
possible  to  condone  my  fault." 

The  moon  had  come  out  again  and  was 
shining  brightly.  Glancing  up,  I  met  his 
look,  and  a  peculiarity  in  his  gaze  made  my 
own  eyes  fall  beneath  it. 

"  Your  fault  was  not  committed  against 
me,"  I  murmured,  weakly. 

"  But  in  your  presence." 

"  For  that  I  grant  you  full  pardon.  That 
fact  had  no  part  in  my  resentment." 

"  It  was  a  large  factor  in  my  remorse." 

"  The  actual  offence  was  far  more  fla 
grant." 

"  It  had  some  justification.  A  mother 
may  not  fail  utterly  in  maternal  love  with 
out  reaping  some  natural  consequences  from 
her  sin  of  omission." 

I  shook  my  head.  "  She  has  longed  for 
your  return.  Her  joy  at  your  home-coming 

is  irreconcilable  with  your  insinuation." 
127 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  How  your  hair  shines  in  the  moon 
light  !"  he  exclaimed,  irrelevantly.  "  Your 
lace  scarf  has  fallen  back  ;  may  I  replace  it  *?" 

He  dropped  the  reins  into  my  hands  and 
set  about  the  slight  task,  taking  an  unwar 
rantable  time  to  fulfil  it. 

"  It  is  almost  the  exact  shade  that  my 
mother's  was,"  he  remarked,  very  gently.  "  I 
always  thought  my  mother's  hair  the  most 
beautiful  in  the  world.  Yours  is  very  like  it, 
Miss  Lothrop.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  was  ever 
longing  to  touch  my  mother's,  but  I  never 
dared  to.  You  see  I  am  less  in  awe  of  you." 

For  an  instant — for  so  brief  an  instant  that 
I  could  not  resent  it — his  hand  rested  on  my 
head,  gently,  tenderly,  with  a  touch  that  was 
almost  a  caress.  Before  he  had  time  to  with 
draw  it  a  strange  and  eerie  cry  came  cleaving 
the  night  air,  smiting  upon  our  senses  with  a 
wierd,  almost  supernatural  significance.  So 
ghostly  and  sudden  was  the  wild  appeal  that 
it  forced  exclamations  from  us  both. 

"  What  was  it  ?"  I  asked,  and  it  was  no 
coquettish  impulse  that  drew  me  closer  to 
my  companion. 

128 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  I  have  no  idea,"  he  replied,  and  clucked 
to  the  horse,  plunging  an  inquiring  gaze 
hither  and  yon  into  the  shadows  which  lin 
gered  on  either  side  the  avenue. 

"  Oh  !"  My  exclamation  was  half  a  cry. 
Darracott  turned  quickly. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"  The  Stone  House  !" 

"  What  of  it  ?" 

"  I  am  sure  it  came  from  there.  There  have 
been  such  strange Oh  !  look — look  !" 

In  thinking  it  over  afterwards  I  was 
moved  to  deepest  shame  and  mortification 
by  a  recollection  of  my  conduct.  Abject 
terror  aroused  by  the  vision  before  me  quite 
overcame  all  maidenly  modesty,  and  I  am 
afraid  I  almost  threw  myself  into  my  com 
panion's  arms  in  my  uncontrollable  fright. 
His  first  impulse  apparently  was  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  my  appeal  to  his  protection,  for 
he  started  to  put  his  arm  about  me ;  but 
evidently  he  thought  better  of  this  and  drew 
himself  somewhat  away,  with  a  movement 
of  recoil  that  brought  me  to  my  senses. 
Yet  I  was  more  concerned  with  my  terror 

9  129 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

than  with  his  very  apparent  reluctance  to 
comfort  me  by  a  tangible  proof  of  his  near 
presence. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  I  gasped,  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
equal  uncertainty.  Then  he  added,  reas 
suringly,  "  You  need  not  be  so  alarmed. 
You  cannot  come  to  any  harm,  you  know, 
while  I  am  with  you Good  God  !" 

For  again  at  that  moment  came  thrilling 
through  the  night  the  cry  that  had  first 
startled  us.  This  time,  however,  the  sound 
took  shape  and  meaning. 

"  Help — help — help  !"  As  it  broke  upon 
the  horse's  ears,  the  creature  shivered  and 
trembled,  as  they  say  animals  will  when 
conscious  of  a  supernatural  presence.  We 
were  now  just  abreast  of  the  Stone  House. 
Mr.  Chester  turned  to  me. 

"What  shall  I  do<?"  he  asked.  "It  is 
for  you  to  say.  I  must  go  down  and  inves 
tigate.  Are  you  afraid  to  sit  here  and  wait 
for  me,  or  shall  I  drive  you  home  first  and 
then  come  back*?" 

130 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Neither,"  I  replied,  ashamed  already  of 
my  momentary  weakness.  "  I  shall  go 
down  there  with  you.  That  is  the  voice 
of  a  woman  in  distress ;  she  may  need  the 
assistance  of  one  of  her  own  sex." 


CHAPTER   VII. 

TJ"E  made  no  attempt  to  dissuade  me,  but 
helped  me  down  from  the  dog-cart 
and  tied  the  horse  to  one  of  the  poplars. 
Then,  hand  in  hand,  that  so  he  might  best 
support  and  assist  me,  we  made  our  way 
down  the  embankment,  slippery  and  wet 
with  moisture  that  always  seemed  to  ooze 
from  its  sides,  and  soon  stood  below  upon 
that  unknown  and  mysterious  territory  which 
I  had  so  often  contemplated,  but  had  never 
before  invaded. 

As  we  approached  the  house,  a  strange  and 
ghostly  spectacle  greeted  us.  The  gaunt, 
gleaming  pile  of  stone,  shining  with  spectral 
lustre  in  the  silvery  light,  seemed  staring 
blankly  into  the  night  through  the  pale 
medium  of  its  myriad  white  shutters.  One 
window  alone  gleamed  with  the  darkness  of 
an  evil  eye,  and  framed  the  vision  that  had 

attracted  our  startled  gaze.     A  woman,  from 
132 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

whose  lips  doubtless  the  faint,  despairing  cry 
had  proceeded,  stood  close  pressed  against 
the  casement.  We  could  see  her  form  quite 
distinctly  in  the  bright  moonlight,  but  not 
until  the  house  was  very,  very  near  could  we 
distinguish  her  features ;  then  I  discovered 
that  the  figure  was  that  of  a  girl,  apparently 
not  much  older  than  I,  and  that  the  face, 
surrounded  by  a  tangle  of  fair  hair,  though 
distorted  by  terror  and  distress,  was  yet  of  a 
startling,  wonderful  beauty.  When  she  saw 
us  approach  she  ceased  her  heart-rending 
cries,  threw  her  hands  above  her  head,  and, 
clasping  them  over  her  disordered  hair  in  an 
easy,  graceful  attitude,  stood  leaning  care 
lessly  against  the  window,  while  the  woful 
expression  of  the  lovely  countenance  gave 
way  to  one  of  curiosity. 

"  What  is  she  *?"  I  panted,  breathlessly, 
turning  to  my  escort.  But  the  terrible  pallor 
of  his  face  brought  me  to  an  involuntary 
pause,  such  a  storm  of  conflicting  emotions 
did  it  betray  ! — recognition,  amazement,  pain, 
and  infinite  aversion.  He  seemed  irresolute, 
as  if  about  to  turn  back  from  a  loathsome 
133 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

object ;  but  even  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult 
of  his  emotions  I  was  able  to  command  an 
answer  from  him.  I  saw  a  shudder  convulse 
him  as  I  repeated  my  question. 

"  What  is  she !"  he  reiterated,  with  his 
eyes  still  fixed  upon  what  appeared  to  me  a 
really  exquisite  picture,  one  quite  devoid  of 
cause  for  this  horror  which  it  seemed  to 
arouse  in  him — then  suddenly  his  voice 
changed  from  exceeding  harshness  to  a  most 
exquisite  gentleness  as  he  transferred  his  gaze 
to  my  awe-struck,  wondering  face.  "  I  can 
not  tell  you  what  she  is.  It  is  enough  for 
you  to  know  that  she  is  one  who  is  un 
worthy  to  touch  the  hem  of  your  garment. 
I  must  go  to  her,  but,  God  willing,  you  shall 
never  come  in  contact  with  such  as  she. 
Turn  back,  turn  back,  Miss  Lothrop,  I  beg 
of  you,  and  wait  for  me  in  the  dog-cart." 

"  I  cannot,"  I  replied,  firmly.  "  I  do  not 
know,  nor  do  I  care  to  know,  what  she  is. 
She  is  suffering  and  in  distress,  and  needs  at 
least  a  woman's  sympathy.  Mr.  Chester, 
my  mind  is  made  up.  I  shall  go  with  you 
— come." 

134 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

He  looked  at  me  a  moment  in  a  manner 
that  made  my  eyes  fall  in  confusion,  and 
then,  seeing  my  determination,  he  took  my 
hand  and,  placing  it  on  his  arm,  walked 
swiftly  towards  the  back  of  the  house  with  a 
directness  and  purpose  that  showed  his  en 
tire  familiarity  with  the  place.  As  we  moved 
out  of  sight  of  the  solitary  figure  at  the  win 
dow  her  cries  recommenced,  and  there  was 
such  a  ghostly  vibration  in  the  sweet,  be 
seeching  tones  as  they  echoed  through  the 
dense  woods  that,  as  we  mounted  the  cliff 
leading  to  the  rickety  old  platform,  which 
Madam  had  described  so  lovingly,  I  trem 
bled  and  shuddered  despite  my  efforts  at 
self-command. 

We  reached  the  rough  landing-place,  and 
Mr.  Chester  tried  the  door.  It  was  securely 
fastened.  Without  further  delay  he  picked 
up  a  stone  and  broke  one  of  the  side-lights, 
thrust  in  his  arm,  and  slid  back  the  bolt 
which  alone  locked  the  entrance.  Then, 
throwing  the  door  quickly  open,  he  drew 
me  within  the  house.  It  was  dark  as 'mid 
night.  No  moonbeams  penetrated  the  ob- 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

scurity,  and  it  seemed  that  the  shadows  were 
almost  palpable.  However,  Mr.  Chester  was 
prepared  for  the  emergency ;  he  had  brought 
with  him  one  of  the  dog-cart  lanterns,  and 
this  he  proceeded  at  once  to  light,  for  the 
brightness  of  the  night  had  rendered  this 
hitherto  unnecessary. 

As  the  flame  gleamed  through  the  dark 
ness,  I  discovered  that  we  were  standing 
upon  the  staircase-landing  with  which  I  had 
become  acquainted  through  Madam's  de 
scription,  while  about  us  gloomed  the  dis 
mal  atmosphere  of  a  deserted,  long-disused, 
damp,  and  dreary  dwelling.  The  scene  was 
chill  and  depressing  beyond  description. 

However,  urged  onward  by  our  concern 
for  the  girl  whose  cries  had  summoned  us 
to  her  relief,  we  wasted  no  time  in  idle  in 
spection,  but  pressed  hurriedly  on  up  the 
stairs  and  along  a  narrow  corridor  until  we 
reached  the  room  at  whose  window  had 
appeared  that  wild  and  distraught  vision. 

A  brief  but  convincing  search  showed  us 
that  the  girl  was  no  longer  within  the  apart 
ment.  It  was  quite  vacant,  barren  even  of 
136 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

furniture,  and  so  dispiriting  was  its  effect 
upon  me  that  I  was  glad  when  my  com 
panion  led  me  hastily  from  it.  We  made  a 
rapid  investigation  of  the  other  rooms  upon 
that  floor,  but  with  no  better  success.  Then 
Mr.  Chester  hesitated  for  a  moment  in  the 
hall,  undecided  whether  to  go  up  or  down 
in  furtherance  of  his  purpose. 

As  we  halted  there,  in  the  same  stern 
silence  which  had  accompanied  our  entrance 
and  research  up  to  this  instant,  a  signal  came 
to  us  through  the  night,  a  sad  and  distressing 
signal  which  wrung  my  heart ;  although  it 
wrought  no  softening  of  the  rigid  lines  in 
my  companion's  face.  It  was  the  sound  of 
sobbing,  hushed  and  pitiful,  like  that  of  a 
little  child  who  has  been  forbidden  to  weep. 
However  bitter  a  man's  feelings  towards  a 
woman  may  be,  such  sounds  issuing  from 
her  lips  must  impel  him  to  her  aid.  Darra- 
cott  turned  to  me. 

"  She  is  below  there,"  he  said,  shortly. 
"  Once  more — will  you  not  remain  here  and 
avoid  meeting  herV  You  shall  have  the 
lantern." 

137 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

His  intonation,  hurried  as  it  was,  indi 
cated  what  his  own  wish  in  the  matter  was, 
but  I  negatived  it  promptly.  All  my  sym 
pathies  were  with  that  desolate  creature 
whose  wailing  still  smote  upon  the  air. 

"  Go  on — hurry  !"  I  cried ;  and  so  we 
passed  down  the  stairs  and,  still  led  by  the 
mournful  sounds,  wound  our  way  in  and  out 
of  narrow  passages,  through  kitchen  and 
servants'  offices,  until  we  came  to  a  sort  of 
cellar  in  the  back  of  the  house.  As  the  light 
fell  into  the  place  the  weeping  ceased,  and  a 
more  terrible  picture  of  misery  and  despair 
than  that  which  met  our  eyes  I  cannot  well 
imagine. 

Two  walls  of  the  room  were  of  the  rough, 
unfinished  stone  of  the  cliff,  on  which  green, 
slimy  dampness  had  formed,  and  down  their 
dark  and  slippery  sides  tiny  streams  of  black 
ooze  trickled  upon  the  earthy  floor  beneath. 
The  roof  and  the  other  walls  were  also  cov 
ered  with  the  deadly  moisture,  and  thick 
grey  festoons  of  dusty  cobwebs  draped  the 
scarcely  visible  woodwork. 

In  the  most  remote  corner  of  this  vile  and 
138 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

dreadful  den  was  huddled  together  a  shape 
less  mass,  almost  covered  by  a  veil  of  fair 
hair,  thrown  forward  over  the  bent  figure, 
evidently  for  the  purpose  of  concealment. 
The  beautiful  mantle,  discovered  by  the  lan 
tern,  gleamed  and  shone  like  a  vein  of  gold 
in  a  dark  setting  of  rough  ore. 

"  Let  me  speak  to  her,"  I  said,  all  fear 
overcome  by  pity. 

There  was  no  reply  from  my  companion. 
I  glanced  at  him,  and  I  hope  that  never 
again  shall  I  see  in  a  man's  face  such  awful 
evidence  of  contending  emotions  as  I  read  in 
his.  There  was  more  than  assent  to  my 
proposition  in  his  eyes  ;  there  was  absolute 
appeal.  He  nodded. 

"  Yes,  do,  for  God's  sake !"  he  muttered. 
"  It  is  beyond  me." 

I  left  him  standing  in  the  doorway,  and 
approached  the  crouching  figure. 

"  Are  you  ill  *?"  I  asked,  speaking  as  gen 
tly  as  possible. 

I  laid  my  hand  softly  upon  the  shrinking 
form.  The  girl,  feeling  my  touch,  raised 
her  bowed  head  and  tossed  back  the  weight 
139 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

of  lustrous  hair,  looking  at  me  with  two  dull, 
mournful  blue  eyes,  in  whose  vacancy  I  read 
the  clue  to  her  strange  actions. 

"  No,  I  am  not  ill,"  she  answered,  in  a  soft 
minor  key.  "  No,  not  ill,  but — oh  !  so  dusty 
—so,  so  dusty  !"  with  dainty  disgust.  "  If  I 
could  only  have  a  cloth  to  wipe  away  the 
cobwebs !  They  are  choking  me,  you 
know !  I'd  like  to  wipe  my  hands,  too ; 
they're  all  wet  with  dampness — see  !" 

She  held  up  two  tiny  palms,  and,  as  I 
stooped  to  warm  them  with  my  own,  I 
shrank  back  in  horror — they  were  stained 
with  a  deep  crimson. 

"  Mr.  Chester !"  I  cried,  forced  to  the  ap 
peal  ;  "  come  here  !"  He  approached  reluc 
tantly.  I  suspected  that  he  feared  recogni 
tion,  and  continued,  in  an  aside,  "  You  need 
not  be  afraid  ;  she  is  quite  insane." 

I  could  see  that  my  words  were  a  great 
shock  from  the  start  he  gave  as  I  spoke. 
Then  personal  feeling  yielded  to  humane 
solicitude. 

"  Alice,"   he    said,  gravely,  as   he    stood 

beside  her,  "  do  you  know  me  *?" 
140 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  nodding  and  smiling, 
"  of  course  !  How  do  you  do  *?  Once  upon 
a  time  a  spider  spun  a  cobweb  and  a  king 
watched  it — you  are  the  king.  Couldn't 
you  give  me  a  duster1?" 

We  saw  that  any  attempt  upon  her  intel 
ligence  was  useless,  but  she  was  amenable 
to  persuasion.  She  shrank  somewhat  from 
Darracott,  but  had  apparently  conceived  a 
strong  confidence  in  me.  She  was  very 
docile  with  me,  and  allowed  me  to  coax 
her  into  compliance  with  my  suggestions. 
The  first  of  these  regarded  her  hands,  which 
I  at  once  proceeded  to  bind  comfortably 
with  strips  torn  from  my  own  handkerchief 
and  that  of  my  companion.  The  wounds 
were  neither  deep  nor  very  painful ;  rather 
abrasions  than  wounds,  indeed ;  caused,  I 
afterwards  assured  myself,  by  her  own  as 
saults  upon  the  window  against  which  we 
had  seen  her  leaning. 

I  was  in  the  midst  of  this  occupation 
when  Darracott,  who  had  been  standing  by, 
gloomily  regarding  the  operation,  suddenly 

and  roughly  interrupted   it.     With  an  im- 
141 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

pulsive  movement  he  deposited  the  lantern 
upon  the  floor  and,  stooping,  laid  his  hands 
impetuously  upon  my  own. 

"  Let  me  do  that !"  he  ejaculated,  rudely. 
"  Drop  her  hands.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you 
touch  them  !" 

I  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  and  the  girl 
gave  a  wild  cry  and  crowded  up  to  me  as 
if  for  protection.  My  woman's  heart  was 
stirred  with  pity  for  her,  and  I  threw  an  arm 
tenderly  about  her  shoulder.  Whatever  her 
offence  had  been,  her  malady  had  wiped  it 
out.  She  was  guiltless  in  her  affliction  as  a 
child  in  its  ignorance. 

"  No  !"  I  returned,  warming  to  my  role  as 
I  felt  the  wretched  creature  nestle  confidingly 
within  my  embrace.  "  She  is  my  charge  ;  I 
will  not  abandon  her." 

"  You  shall !"  he  exclaimed  ;  and  to  my 
surprise  I  discovered  that  his  eyes  were  filled 
with  hatred  and  passionate  determination. 
"  You  shall  not  take  her  in  your  arms.  I 
will  not  have  it.  You  do  not  know  what 
she  is !"  He  placed  a  hand  on  the  shoulder 

of  each  of  us,  as  if  by  main  force  he  would 
142 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

draw  us  apart.  But  I  held  the  trembling 
girl  safe  clasped  in  my  arms,  and  so  cir 
cumstanced,  united  by  the  hands  that  would 
have  severed  us,  I  looked  up  and  put  to  him 
the  first  question  I  had  ever  uttered  con 
cerning  the  mysteries  of  those  lives  with 
which  destiny  had  so  closely  associated  me. 

"  Then  you  shall  tell  me,"  I  cried.  "  Who 
is  she  *" 

A  moment  he  hesitated,  glaring  fiercely 
down  upon  us  both  ;  then  he  gave  a  short, 
dreary  laugh,  as  of  one  sick  at  heart. 

"  She  is  my  wife,"  he  said. 

At  that  instant,  I  am  sure  the  unbalanced 
mind  of  the  stricken  girl  temporarily  read 
justed  itself,  and  she  recognised  him.  As 
tonishment,  and  perhaps  a  more  intimate 
and  personal  sensation,  had  caused  my  clasp 
somewhat  to  relax  its  hold.  Before  I  could 
recover  from  the  shock  of  this  unexpected 
intelligence  my  arms  were  empty.  The  girl 
had  bounded  to  her  feet  and  was  speeding  to 
the  door.  I  gave  a  cry.  It  was  echoed 
from  the  threshold.  There,  barring  the  de 
serter's  further  progress,  was  a  figure  I  knew 
143 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

well, — the  stunted,  dwarfed,  drooping,  repul 
sive  figure  of  Mrs.  Mayberry  ! 

A  ray  from  the  lantern  falling  upon  the 
heads  of  the  two  women  disclosed  a  feature 
which  they  possessed  in  common,  that 
seemed  to  denote  the  existence  of  a  tie  of 
blood  between  them.  The  sunny,  rippling 
cloud  of  hair  that  fell  like  a  mantle  of 
cloth-of-gold  about  the  shoulders  of  the  girl 
was  but  the  counterfeit  of  the  decorously 
arranged  tresses  which  crowned  the  head  of 
the  woman.  That  inherited  trait  betrayed 
a  near  and  unmistakable  relationship.  I 
looked  quickly,  interrogatively,  at  Darracott. 
He  nodded  gloomily. 

"  Her  daughter,"  he  muttered.  "  Yes,  my 
wife  and  her  daughter." 

I  transferred  my  gaze  to  the  door.  May- 
berry  had  pushed  the  girl  from  her  path  and 
had  entered  the  room.  Her  face  was  white 
with  horrible  fear  and  miserable  uncertainty. 
She  shook  like  a  culprit  before  a  dreaded 
judge ;  her  lips  twitched  convulsively,  and 
it  was  obvious  that  she  was  wholly  possessed 

by  a  sense  of  unpardonable  guiltiness.     Alto- 

144 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

gether,  she  was  a  wretched,  pitiable  object, 
arousing  rather  the  aversion  than  the  sym 
pathy  of  the  beholder.  As  she  advanced 
into  the  room  she  essayed  to  speak,  but  sev 
eral  attempts  were  necessary  before  her  words 
came  freely  forth.  Then  they  gushed  like  a 
torrent. 

"  Sir,  sir,  I  couldn't  help  it.  I  had  no 
where  else  to  hide  her.  She  should  have 
been  turned  adrift  again  but  for  her  affliction. 
Forgive  me — forgive  me,  sir.  I  had  no 
right,  I  know  I  had  none ;  but  what  could  I 
do  *?  I  had  meant  it  only  to  be  for  a  little 
while.  Don't — oh,  Mr.  Chester,  don't  let 
my  mistress  know  what  I  have  done !  I 
could  not  bear  it,  sir.  I  could  not  have  her 
turn  against  me ;  it  would  break  my  heart. 

Oh,  sir,  it  would,  it  would "    And  so  on 

and  so  forth ;  a  ceaseless,  egotistical  reitera 
tion  of  the  personal  pronoun,  "  I — I — I." 
No  word  of  pleading  for  the  hapless  girl, 
who  stood  surveying  the  situation  with  smil 
ing  indifference  from  her  vantage  post  by 
the  door.  No  selfless  entreaty  for  her  par 
don,  no  attempt  to  implore  leniency  for  her 

10  145 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

in  her  affliction,  no  prayer  for  forgiveness  of 
that  offence  which  had  turned  the  husband's 
heart  against  the  wife.  Nothing  but  a 
thoroughly  selfish  effort  in  her  own  behalf; 
a  voluble  outpouring  of  words  with  but  one 
object  in  view,  that  of  self-exculpation.  Her 
eloquence  was  becoming  wearisome.  Dar- 
racott  raised  a  hand  in  protest.  The  stern, 
uncompromising  look  had  again  settled  upon 
his  face. 

"  That  will  do,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  have 
nothing  to  reproach  you  with.  Your  po 
sition  has  been  a  difficult  one.  I  should 
have  preferred  complete  openness  on  your 
part,  and  so,  I  believe,  would  your  mistress. 
Duplicity  never  avails  much.  Now  let  us 
see  what  arrangements  can  be  made  for  your 
daughter's  proper  bestowal." 

She  looked  at  him  with  shrinking,  terrified 
eyes.  Oh !  how  despicable  a  trait  is  moral 
cowardice ! 

"  May  she  not  stay  here,  sir  *?" 

"  No." 

"  She  cannot  go  to  the  village.     No  one 

would  take  in  an  insane  girl." 
146 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  ask  anyone  to  do  so." 

There  was  an  instant's  pause.  Then, 
with  quavering  voice  and  with  all  the 
strength  of  protestation  at  her  command, 
the  woman  burst  forth  imploringly, — 

"  You  would  not  insult  my  mistress  by 
bringing  the  girl  beneath  her  roof!  Oh,  sir, 
you  would  not !" 

"  It  is  my  roof.  Your  daughter  has  a 
legal  claim  to  its  shelter." 

For  once  the  woman's  resolution  proved 
itself  worthy  the  name.  She  rose  to  a  mo 
mentary  pitch  of  actual  heroism  in  her  de 
votion  to  her  mistress.  She  regarded  the 
man  before  her  with  flaming  eyes,  and  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  she  feared  him 
only  in  less  degree  than  Madam. 

"  She  shall  never  seek  shelter  beneath 
Madam's  roof  while  I  have  arms  to  hold 
her  back,"  she  said,  doggedly. 

Darracott  considered  her  in  silence  a  few 
moments.  Then  he  appeared  to  form  a 
sudden  resolve. 

"  We  will  see,"  he  remarked  ;  and,  turning 
to  me,  announced  his  readiness  to  depart. 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  I  shall  return,"  he  said  to  the  housekeeper, 
"after  I  have  taken  Miss  Lothrop  home. 
Remain  here  with  your  daughter." 

But  I  would  not  desert  the  twain,  and 
fearlessly  told  him  so.  He  looked  tired 
and  spent,  and  evidently  had  no  heart  to 
seek  to  combat  my  decision. 

"As  you  will,"  he  said,  and  was  about  to 
pass  from  the  room  when  Mayberry  threw 
herself  before  him. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  ask  Madam " 

she  began  ;  but  his  patience  was  at  an  end. 
He  brushed  her  aside  as  one  does  a  trouble 
some  fly  and  strode  from  the  room,  taking 
care  to  avoid  contact  with  the  girl,  who  still 
stood  at  the  door,  with  a  childish  smile  on 
her  face,  stretching  out  a  playful  hand  to 
him  as  he  passed  her. 

The  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  of  Darra- 
cott's  absence  (I  do  not  think  it  could  have 
been  more  than  that)  dragged  heavily  away. 
The  interval  was  wearisome  enough  to  me, 
occupied  as  it  was  by  a  ceaseless  monologue 
from  Mrs.  Mayberry.  This  was  largely 

composed  of  self-commiseration  and  despair, 
148 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

and  was  accompanied  by  a  continuous  flood 
of  tears,  caused  sometimes  by  violent  out 
bursts  of  grief  and  sometimes  by  mere  whim 
pering  and  moaning.  She  constantly  reit 
erated  her  conviction  that  Mr.  Chester  had 
gone  to  secure  his  mother's  consent  to  his 
purpose  of  bringing  the  stricken  girl  to  The 
Ivies,  and  worked  herself  into  paroxysms  of 
alarm  and  apprehension  concerning  Madam's 
resentment  of  her  own  conduct  when  she 
should  hear  of  her  duplicity. 

Her  behaviour,  her  miserable  egotism, 
which  totally  excluded  her  suffering  child 
from  her  consideration,  filled  me  with  dis 
gust.  I  tried  to  interrupt  the  wretched  ex 
hibition  by  seeking  to  call  her  attention  to 
her  daughter,  who  was  regarding  her  from  a 
distance  with  curious  and  pleased  glances ; 
apparently  the  girl  was  diverted  and  amused 
by  the  spectacle  of  her  mother's  abject  loss 
of  self-control,  and  looked  upon  it  as  simply 
a  successful  effort  on  the  latter's  part  to  enter 
tain  her.  At  any  unusually  loud  outburst  she 
would  clap  her  hands  applaudingly,  and  give 

vent  to  an  encouraging  and  gratified  crow. 
149 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

At  last  I  grew  so  heartily  sick  of  the  busi 
ness  that  I  dropped  all  disguise  from  my 
feelings,  and  accosted  the  qualifying  Niobe 
with  actual  harshness. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Mrs.  Mayberry,"  I 
said,  giving  free  rein  to  my  contempt,  "  do 
stop  thinking  about  yourself  for  a  time. 
What  of  it  if  Mr.  Chester  has  gone  to  ask 
his  mother's  permission  to  take  your  daugh 
ter  home  ;  why  shouldn't  he  do  so  *?  And 
how  could  Madam  do  less  than  receive  her? 
Whatever  she  has  done  in  the  past,  only  a 
woman  bereft  of  the  commonest  humanity 
could  visit  the  result  of  former  iniquities 
upon  her  now,  or  hold  her  responsible  in  her 
present  condition.  And  Madam  has  the 
soul  of  an  angel.  She  would  not  dream  of 
excluding  that  poor  child  from  her  natural 
asylum." 

Mayberry  turned  her  streaming  eyes  upon 
me  with  a  look  of  weak  scorn  for  the  opinion 
of  one  so  ignorant  as  I. 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking 
about,"  she  cried.  "  Madam  has  the  soul  of 

an  angel,  it  is  true ;  but  even  an  angel  would 
150 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

not  forgive  my  wretched  girl  the  misery  she 
has  caused.  She  shall  never,  never  go  back  to 
that  home  she  has  ruined.  She  has  made  her 
bed  ;  let  her  lie  on  it.  She  has  sown  a  crop  of 
thorns  in  many  lives  ;  let  her  live  as  she  may 
upon  the  fruit  they  have  borne  in  her  own." 

The  look  she  turned  upon  poor  Alice  was 
so  fierce  and  resentful  that  the  girl  shrank 
back,  and  crouched  coweringly  down  against 
the  wall.  I  was  about  to  interpose  between 
them  and  confine  myself  wholly  to  the 
daughter  when  I  was  restrained  by  the  sound 
of  advancing  footsteps,  and,  turning  towards 
the  door,  I  discovered,  to  my  infinite  relief, 
that  Darracott  had  returned ;  nor  had  he  re 
turned  alone.  Beside  him,  distinguished 
from  the  enshrouding  gloom  by  the  rays 
from  a  second  lantern  which  he  carried  aloft 
in  his  hand,  appeared  the  stately,  command 
ing  figure  of  my  dear  lady,  enveloped  in 
heavy  wraps,  her  unseeing  progress  being 
guided  by  the  careful  assistance  of  her  son, 
upon  whose  arm  she  leant. 

Its  habitual  expression  of  calm  resignation 
and  gentle  endurance  had  vanished  from  her 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

face ;  a  look  of  stern  suffering  and  anguish 
rigidly  suppressed  gave  to  it  the  semblance 
of  a  mask  of  Nemesis.  I  could  not  wonder 
at  the  deprecating  cry  that  burst  from  May- 
berry's  lips  as  her  eyes  rested  upon  that  tragic 
countenance.  But  Madam  frowned  as  she 
heard  the  sound,  and,  leaving  the  support  of 
her  son's  arm,  advanced  into  the  room,  with 
one  firm,  white  hand  outstretched  to  guard 
her  person  from  harm. 

"  Hush,  woman !"  she  commanded,  in 
tones  such  as  I  had  never  heard  issue  from  her 
lips.  "  What  words  are  those  you  utter  *?  Is 
it  not  of  your  own  child  you  are  speaking?" 

Mayberry  sprang  forward  and  threw  her 
self  in  her  favourite  attitude  before  Madam, 
clutching  her  skirts  with  imploring,  working 
fingers  as  she  cried  out, — 

"  Oh,  Madam,  Madam  !  she  is  no  longer 
my  child.  Have  I  not  cast  her  off?  Did  I 
not  break  the  tie  between  us  that  accursed 
day  when — 

Madam  interrupted  the  wretched  creature 
with  magnificent  scorn.  She  drew  herself 
away  from  the  clinging  fingers,  and  her  sight- 
152 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

less  eyes  were  ablaze  with  indignation  and 
with  the  fires  of  passionate,  unquenchable 
retrospection. 

"  No  longer  your  child  !"  she  repeated. 
"  And  how  can  that  be,  since  you  both  still 
exist  *?  Have  you  not  borne  her  *?  Have 
you  not  suffered  for  her — nursed,  tended, 
petted,  and  caressed  her'?  Have  you  not 
felt  her  arms  about  your  neck  ?  Have  you 
not  rocked  her  on  your  bosom,  and  heard 
her  voice  calling  you  by  the  dearest  name 
on  earth '?  Have  you  not  longed,  as  only 
we  mothers  can,  to  hear  the  sound  of  that 
name  once  more*?  Have  you  not  hungered 
and  thirsted  for  it^  And  now  that  it  has 
come  to  you,  now  that  your  heart's  yearning 
desire  is  granted,  do  you  stop  to  consider  her 
faults  and  turn  away  from  her  in  her  hour  of 
need  *?  Good  God  !  It  is  not.  possible  ! 
Why,  woman,  know  that  if  I  could  once 
more  hope  to  hear  my  lost  boy's  voice  call 
ing  me  mother,  I  would  go  to  him  though 
my  road  lay  through  the  vilest,  most  terrible 
paths  that  this  world  can  show,  assured  that 
my  mission  would  sanctify  the  way." 
153 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

T  HAVE  never  seen  anything  so  superb  as 
she  was  in  her  splendid  scorn  of  this 
weaker  character.  Her  face  fairly  glowed 
with  the  passion  of  maternity,  and  her  words 
rang  on  the  air  like  the  vibration  of  hot 
metal  being  beaten  into  shape.  When  she 
paused,  the  poor  shamed  creature  whom 
she  addressed  slunk  again  to  her  side  and 
clutched  the  edge  of  her  mistress's  gown  in 
her  nerveless,  trembling  hands. 

"  Ah,  Madam,  Madam,  think  how  she  has 
wronged  you  !" 

"  /  may  think  of  that,  but  should  you  *? 
Should  you,  her  mother,  think  of  wrong 
done  a  stranger,  when  your  child,  stricken 
and  suffering,  calls  to  you  *?" 

"  I  do  long  to  help  her,"  she  wailed,  mis 
erably  ;  "  but  what  can  I  do  *?  Where  can 
I  take  her?" 

There  was  an  impressive  pause.  Madam 
154 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

turned  her  poor  eyes  vaguely  about,  as  if  in 
search  of  someone.  I  had  been  looking  at 
Darracott,  constrained  to  watch  him  by 
reason  of  the  swift  play  of  emotion  on  his 
countenance.  The  bitterness  of  his  ex 
pression  when  Madam  made  allusion  to  her 
lost  son,  an  allusion  which  was  then,  of 
course,  quite  without  meaning  to  me,  was 
such  as  for  a  brief  instant  made  me  waver 
in  my  strong  allegiance  to  my  dear  lady. 
There  must  have  been  potent  cause  for  such 
a  look.  And  yet — Madam  !  As  she  waited, 
glancing  thus  irresolutely  about,  the  mask 
of  repression  again  settled  over  his  features, 
eclipsing  self-betrayal.  He  took  a  few  steps 
forward,  and  touched  his  mother's  arm,  sig 
nificantly,  with  his  strong  right  hand.  The 
touch  sent  a  thrill  coursing  through  her 
being  that  broke  up  all  its  icy  self-restraint. 
Her  stately  head  drooped,  her  face  worked 
with  emotion,  and  her  beautiful  eyes  melted 
and  grew  bright  with  unshed  tears.  With  a 
quick,  proud,  and  yet  tender  gesture,  she 
drew  Darracott's  hand  from  her  arm  and 
clasped  it  within  her  own. 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  My  son  has  bidden  you  bring  your 
daughter  again  beneath  his  roof.  Have  you 
or  I  a  right  to  express  inclination  or  hesi 
tation  in  a  matter  wherein  his  authority  is  as 
absolute  as  his  generosity  and  clemency  are 
uncommon  and  noble  *?" 

For  a  brief  instant,  I,  watching  the  man 
with  a  passionate  interest  that  bore  no  kin 
ship  to  idle  curiosity,  saw  a  flash  of  bright 
ness  light  up  his  eyes.  The  next  moment 
his  hand  was  withdrawn  from  the  detaining 
clasp,  and  his  business-like  tones  eliminated 
all  tragic  element  from  the  interview. 

"  My  mother  must  not  remain  here,  May- 
berry.  The  place  is  unfit  for  her.  Make 
your  daughter  ready,  and  when  I  have  taken 
my  mother  and  Miss  Lothrop  home  I  will 
return  for  you." 

My  dear  lady  turned  quickly  to  him  as  he 
spoke,  and  I  flushed  with  pleasure  as  she  said, 
with  unmistakable  affection  in  her  voice, — 

"  My  little  Dorothy  !  Where  is  she,  my 
son?" 

I  went  forward,  and  took  her  hand  ten 
derly  in  mine.  Her  fingers  closed  eagerly 
156 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

over  my  own,  as  if  she  found  comfort  in 
the  contact.  Mayberry,  in  the  presence  of 
such  magnanimity  as  had  been  shown  her, 
was,  for  once,  too  overawed  for  lachrymose 
indulgence.  With  an  indistinguishable  mur 
mur  she  moved  away  from  our  little  group, 
and  took  up  her  station  by  the  side  of  the 
insane  girl,  who  had  been  watching  the 
whole  interview  with  marked  delight.  Just 
as  we  were  about  to  turn  away,  the  witless 
creature  gave  a  sudden  cry  and  would  have 
sprung  forward  to  Madam's  side,  had  not 
Mayberry  fallen  swiftly  upon  her  and  re 
strained  her  by  actual  force  of  arm.  I  felt 
Madam  shudder,  and  as  she  turned  eagerly 
towards  the  door,  as  if  desiring  to  escape,  I 
anticipated  her  wish  and  led  her  from  the 
dark  and  horrible  den. 

No  word  was  spoken  as  we  drove  home ; 
but  as  we  got  out  of  the  carriage  and  were 
about  to  enter  the  house,  Madam  turned  to 
Darracott. 

"  My  son — my  dear  son,"  I  heard  her  say, 
with  a  heart-breaking  tremble  in  her  voice, 
"  I  thank  you." 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

But  there  was  no  corresponding  emotion 
in  the  tone  in  which  he  replied, — 

"  There  is  no  occasion  for  gratitude, 
mother.  A  man  has  no  choice  in  a  matter 
of  plain  duty." 

As  she  and  I  mounted  the  steps,  she 
sighed  so  heavily  that  it  made  my  heart 
ache  for  her  unknown  trouble.  But  I  was 
tongue-tied  by  ignorance  and  could  only 
„  manifest  my  sympathy  by  infusing  surpass 
ing  tenderness  into  the  ministrations  I  was 
allowed  to  perform  for  her,  in  place  of  May- 
berry,  whom  she  would  not  see  again  that 
night,  she  said.  When  I  had  helped  her  to 
undress  and  had  made  her  comfortable,  she 
bade  me  throw  a  wrapper  about  her  and 
send  Franklin  to  her,  as  she  wished  to  give 
him  instructions  relating  to  the  disposal  of 
Mayberry's  daughter. 

"  I  shall  have  a  fierce  struggle  to  over 
come  the  old  man's  objections  to  harbour 
ing  the  girl,"  she  remarked,  with  a  sad  little 
smile.  "  But  he  must  yield  a  point  which 
my  son  has  not  thought  fit  to  contend. 

My    son — my    dear    son !"     she    repeated, 
158 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

caressingly.  "Dorothy,  did  I  not  tell  you 
he  was  of  heroic  mould  ?  But  I  forget. 
How  must  all  the  sad  mystery  of  these 
events  define  itself  to  you  ?  You  must  be 
taught  to  understand  them,  even  if  it  costs 
me  something  of  your  regard  to  enlighten 
you.  To-morrow,  perhaps — perhaps  I  can 
find  strength  to  tell  you.  It  is  your  due, 
my  child — my  comforter." 

My  tears  moistened  her  hands  as  she  took 
my  face  between  her  palms  to  kiss  it.  She 
made  no  comment  upon  them,  however ; 
only  her  kiss  was  more  tender,  more  loving 
than  usual. 

I  could  not  bear  to  go  to  bed  without 
seeing  Darracott  once  more,  for  I  felt  per 
suaded  that,  although  far  less  visible  to 
others,  his  suffering  that  night  fully  equalled, 
if  it  had  not  largely  exceeded,  that  of  the 
two  bereaved  mothers.  There  was  in  my 
heart  a  passionate  sympathy  for  this  man 
whom  Fate  had  used  so  harshly ;  a  yearning 
desire  to  do  something  for  his  comfort,  some 
thing  that  might  testify  in  ever  so  slight  a 
degree  to  the  depth  and  sincerity  of  my  pity 
159 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

and  regret  for  the  ill-usage  he  had  received, 
and  which  I  was  now,  perforce,  obliged  to 
believe  in.  If  my  heart  throbbed  somewhat 
miserably  when  I  thought  of  the  wretched 
fact  which,  transpiring  through  the  revela 
tions  of  the  night,  had  stabbed  my  heart 
with  most  poignant  anguish, — the  fact  that, 
underlying  every  other  circumstance  of  this 
yet  unrevealed  tragedy,  loomed  most  distinct 
and  dreadful  before  me,  the  fact  that  Darra- 
cott  Chester  had  a  living  wife, — in  justice  to 
myself  let  me  say  that  I  resolutely  refused 
to  heed  my  own  despair,  and  stifled  the  in 
sistent  consideration  that  sought  to  dominate 
my  mind  by  occupying  all  my  energies  with 
preparations  for  the  reception  of  the  woman 
who  was  about  to  return  to  the  roof  she  had 
disgraced. 

Franklin  and  I  had  scarcely  time  to  carry 
out  Madam's  directions  before  we  heard  the 
wheels  of  the  returning  carriage  crunching 
the  gravel.  I  felt  that  mine  might  be  an 
embarrassing  presence  to  the  mother  and 
husband  of  the  unfortunate  girl,  and,  there 
fore,  withdrew  from  the  hastily  prepared 
1 60 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

suite  set  apart  for  her  use,  and  betook  my 
self  to  a  task  more  in  harmony  with  my 
feelings  and  less  repugnant  to  that  sick  un 
dercurrent  of  protest  that  was  pulsing  through 
my  being. 

Since  the  master's  return  I  had  never  been 
in  the  pretty  morning-room  in  which  Madam 
and  I  had  been  wont  formerly  to  take  our 
meals.  Franklin  had  informed  me  that  in 
olden  times  it  had  been  dedicated  to  Mr. 
Chester's  use,  and  that  he  would  again  oc 
cupy  it  as  a  sort  of  den  or  sanctum.  I 
knew  that  the  greater  portion  of  his  time 
was  spent  there,  and  that  it  was  his  habit  to 
linger  in  it  long  after  the  rest  of  the  house 
hold  had  retired.  To-night  I  resolved  to 
take  a  liberty. 

Thinking  that  it  would  be  some  time  be 
fore  he  would  have  finished  seeing  after  the 
proper  establishment  of  his  wife,  and  expect 
ing  also  that  he  would  be  somewhat  detained 
in  Madam's  room  when  he  should  go  to  say 
his  customary  good-night  to  her,  I  dared  to 
take  advantage  of  the  interval  for  the  pur 
pose  of  invading  the  den,  in  order  to  see  that 

161 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

the  fire  was  burning  cheerfully,  and  to  lay  a 
tray-cloth  upon  his  centre-table,  whereon  it 
was  my  intention  to  prepare  a  modest  repast. 
Say  what  you  will,  you  sentimentalists,  there 
is  nothing  that  inspires  new  hope  in  a  dis 
couraged  soul,  that  reanimates  a  drooping 
spirit,  like  the  vision  of  a  bright  wood-fire 
and  the  sight  of  good  cheer. 

As  I  live,  although  I  hoped  and  meant  to 
waylay  the  master  in  the  hall  before  he  should 
enter  the  room,  and  solace  that  miserable 
heart-sickness  that  I  knew  would  later  con 
quer  my  attempts  to  subdue  it,  by  extract 
ing  a  brief  word  or  two  from  his  wary  lips, 
I  had  no  desire,  nor  did  I  intend,  to  allow 
him  to  find  me  in  possession  of  this  apart 
ment,  which  was  so  peculiarly  his  own.  I 
make  this  statement  that  no  charge  of  un- 
maidenliness  or  boldness  may  be  brought 
against  me  as  I  narrate  the  events  which 
transpired. 

I  was  as  quick  in  the  performance  of  my 
self-imposed  duties  as  I  could  be,  but  all 
things  seemed  to  conspire  against  me.  In 

the  first  place,  the  fire  had  burnt  almost  out, 
162 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

and  I  was  obliged  to  fan  it  with  the  bellows 
most  vigorously  and  persistently  before  I 
could  produce  the  effect  which  I  desired.  It 
must  be  a  brilliant,  joyous  flame  to  enliven 
and  inspire  ;  a  sulky,  unwilling  fire  is  worse 
than  none.  Then  I  was  a  stranger  to  the 
butler's  pantry  and  store-room,  and  some 
minutes  were  wasted  in  the  search  for  the 
various  articles  I  required.  I  have  great 
faith  in  the  virtue  of  a  hot  drink,  and  I 
knew  enough  of  masculine  nature  to  feel 
convinced  that  neither  tea  nor  coffee  would 
so  comfort  it  as  would  a  more  ardent  bever 
age.  Hot  Scotch  was  the  solace  of  my 
brother-in-law's  fits  of  depression,  and  I  be 
thought  me  to  afford  the  object  of  my 
present  ministrations  the  opportunity  of 
applying  the  same  balm  to  his  spirits. 

I  had  no  difficulty  in  discovering  a  case- 
bottle  of  whiskey,  lemons,  and  sugar,  but 
alcohol  with  which  to  inflame  the  spirit- 
lamp  I  found  in  the  pantry  was  nowhere 
forthcoming.  In  vain  I  searched  all  Frank 
lin's  preserves,  growing  nervous  and  cross  as 
I  felt  the  precious  time  wearing  itself  away. 
163 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

At  last  I  dared  delay  no  longer,  and  a  sud 
den  inspiration  came  to  me,  which  I  hast 
ened  to  carry  into  effect. 

I  returned  to  the  morning-room,  and,  pos 
sessing  myself  of  the  poker,  knelt  down 
upon  the  hearth  and  drew  forward  a  little 
bed  of  glowing  bits  of  charcoal.  I  had 
filled  the  small  saucepan  belonging  to  the 
useless  lamp  with  water,  and  I  now  pro 
ceeded  to  heat  this  by  holding  it  over  the 
hot  embers.  With  my  eyes  roaming  alter 
nately  from  my  task  to  the  door,  and  ears 
stretched  to  their  utmost  to  detect  the  sound 
of  approaching  footsteps  (for  I  felt  that  I 
could  hear  such  traversing  the  floor  of  the 
echoing  hall  in  time  to  escape  from  the  room 
before  they  should  enter),  I  knelt  at  my  task, 
urging  the  water  to  boil  with  all  the  impetu 
osity  of  a  woman's  impatient  soul.  If  long 
ing  had  had  effect  upon  my  purpose,  the 
steam  would  have  arisen  as  the  pan  touched 
the  coals.  But,  alas  !  it  is  the  watched  ket 
tle  that  does  not  boil,  and  so  this  occasion 
proved.  As  for  the  hundredth  time  I  lifted 

the   cover  from  the  little  vessel  and  peered 
164 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

anxiously  within,  to  try  to  discover  some 
indications  of  the  desired  seething  of  the 
water,  I  heard  a  muffled  sound,  and  there 
came  upon  me  that  inexplicable  conscious 
ness  of  another  presence  in  the  room  not  yet 
discovered. 

My  eyes  sped  to  the  door.  Vacancy  there. 
I  half  rose,  nervously  spilling  some  of  the 
water  from  the  pan  upon  my  hand  as  I  did 
so.  The  water  was  hot,  if  not  boiling,  and 
a  stifled  cry  escaped  me.  I  quickly  placed 
the  pan  upon  the  hearth,  and  with  that  nat 
ural  impulse  which  we  share  with  the  brutes, 
and  which  is  probably  a  trait  inherited  from 
a  common  ancestor,  raised  my  hand  and  ap 
plied  to  it  the  simple  salve  which  instinct 
directs  us  to  resort  to  upon  such  occasions — 
I  held  the  injured  place  to  my  mouth. 

"  What  is  this,  Miss  Lothrop? — you  have 
hurt  yourself!" 

It  was  well,  indeed,  that  the  pan  was  no 
longer  in  my  grasp.  So  startled  was  I  by 
the  salutation  that,  without  doubt,  I  should 
have  done  myself  grievous  injury  with  the 

steaming  contents.     Turning  quickly  in  the 
165 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

direction  opposite  the  door  upon  which  I 
had  concentrated  my  attention,  I  saw,  hur 
riedly  advancing  towards  me  the  intruder 
whose  advent  I  had  been  dreading.  Then  I 
remembered  that  there  was  another  entrance 
to  the  room,  rarely  used,  and  quite  forgotten 
by  me. 

I  am  sure  my  face  must  have  been  ma 
hogany-coloured.  The  close  proximity  to 
the  leaping  flames  had  scorched  my  cheeks, 
and  to  this  artificially  acquired  crimson  was 
added  a  flush  compounded,  it  seemed  to  me, 
of  all  the  blood  in  my  body.  I  was  em 
barrassed  and  confused  beyond  description. 

"  It  is  nothing — nothing,"  I  stammered, 
hurriedly,  twisting  my  handkerchief  about 
the  smarting  member.  "  I  am  just  going, 
Mr.  Chester.  I  was  only  trying  to  heat  a 

little  water.  I  thought Oh,  how  tired 

you  do  look  !" 

After  all,  concern  for  him  was  far  more 
predominant  in  my  mind  than  the  meaner 
consideration  of  self,  and  it  quickly  van 
quished  my  wounded  and  abashed  self- 
consciousness.  I  never  had  seen  a  man 

1 66 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

look  so  utterly  fagged  and  spent  as  he  did 
just  then.  When  the  mask  does  happen  to 
fall  from  contained  and  reserved  natures,  the 
revelation  comes  like  a  shock  upon  those 
who  have  never  chanced  before  to  see  the 
same  countenance  au  naturel. 

He  paid  no  heed  to  my  ejaculation.  I 
saw  that  his  rapid  glance  had  taken  in  the 
details  of  my  preparations  for  his  refresh 
ment,  and,  though  he  made  no  allusion  to 
them  just  then,  he  looked  at  me  an  instant 
in  quite  a  wonderful  way,  that  somehow 
made  me  glad  I  was  just  who  I  was,  even  if 
another  woman  was  his  wife. 

"  Let  me  see  your  hand,  please,"  he  then 
said,  in  quite  a  matter-of-fact  way,  coming 
forward  until  he  stood  close  to  me.  His 
own  hands  were  in  his  pockets,  and  he  did 
not  withdraw  them  or  offer  to  touch  mine, 
as  I  unwrapped  it  and  held  it  up  for  his  in 
spection. 

"  Whew  !"  he  whistled,  as  he  peered  down 
at  it.  "  A  vile  burn.  Wait  here  a  moment, 
Miss  Lothrop,  will  you  ?  I'll  get  some  soda 

for  it." 

167 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

He  was  turning  away  as  he  spoke,  but  I 
detained  him. 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing  !"  I  said.  "  I  am  going 
to  my  room  at  once,  and  will  put  some 
vaseline  on  it.  It  really  doesn't  amount  to 
anything  at  all.  Good-night." 

"  Nonsense  !  It  amounts  to  a  good  deal," 
he  said.  "  Vaseline's  no  good.  Soda  will 
take  the  fire  out  at  once.  Wait." 

I  did  not  dare  offer  any  further  objection, 
for  his  tone  seemed  to  show  some  annoy 
ance,  and  I  thought  it  unfair  to  harass  him 
any  more  that  night.  Therefore  I  held  my 
peace  and  seated  myself  to  await  his  return. 
But  before  he  came  my  heart  misgave  me. 
I  was  overborne  with  the  thought  of  the 
unconventionality  of  my  situation,  and  it 
began  to  attain  enormous  and  horrid  pro 
portions  of  indecency  in  my  sight.  What, 
I  reflected,  would  Madam  say  at  my  being 
closeted  with  her  son  (a  married  man,  too  !) 
at  that  hour  of  the  night ! 

I  could  not  bear  the  thought.  I  rose 
hurriedly  to  my  feet  and  made  for  the  door. 
My  decision  had  come  too  late,  however,  for 

1 68 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

already  I  saw  Darracott  approaching  from 
the  farther  end  of  the  hall.  I  summoned 
all  my  resolution.  I  would  be  firm  and  de 
cided.  It  was  too  late  for  me  to  be  philan 
dering  down  here,  and  no  persuasion  should 
avail  to  make  me  remain.  I  proceeded  coolly 
on  my  way.  As  we  came  up  with  each 
other  he  accosted  me. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?"  he  asked, 
still  with  that  annoyed  expression  in  his 
voice. 

"  To  my  room,"  I  replied. 

"  Nonsense  !    What  for  T 

Now,  it  is  a  difficult  thing  to  explain  to  a 
man  your  ideas  of  the  unfitness  of  remain 
ing  alone  and  unchaperoned  with  him.  It 
seems  to  offer  suggestions  which  you  fear 
will  make  you  appear  either  ridiculous  or 
expectant  in  his  sight.  I  hesitated. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  tired  out  with  all  our 
demands  upon  you,"  he  continued.  "  Well, 
I  don't  wonder.  Just  come  back  a  moment, 
however.  It  won't  take  but  a  minute  to 
apply  this  soda,  and  then  you  shall  go. 

Really,  Miss  Lothrop,  I  beg  of  you  to  allow 
169 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

me  to  do  this  much  for  you ;  it  will  afford 
us  both  infinite  relief." 

I  held  out  my  hand. 

"  Can't  you  put  it  on  here  *?"  I  asked. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  No  ;  I  must  have  some  water  to  moisten 
it  with.  Why,  what  is  the  matter*?"  he 
went  on,  quickly  and  with  sudden  sus 
picion  ;  "  you  are  not  afraid  of  me,  Miss 
Lothrop,  are  you  *?  The  events  of  this  even 
ing  have  not  made  you  suspicious  of  me?" 

His  face  had  flushed  hotly,  and  he  had 
drawn  himself  up  a  little  proudly.  I  would 
have  gone  through  fiery  flames  with  him 
after  that  speech. 

"  Suspicious  of  you !"  I  repeated,  and 
laughed.  "  Come,  Mr.  Chester." 

"  Ah  !  that's  better,"  he  said,  and  we  re 
turned  to  the  morning-room. 

The  place  did  look  cosy  and  cheery  as  we 
entered  it.  Its  intrinsic  beauty  was  consid 
erable,  and  to  this  had  been  added  much 
extraneous  adornment  in  the  way  of  rare 
and  costly  trophies  of  foreign  travel.  The 

master  of  the  house  had  evidently  thought 
170 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

to  ameliorate  this  enforced  and  humdrum 
monotony,  which  was  so  uncongenial  to  his 
nature,  by  surrounding  himself  with  memen 
toes  of  a  wider  and  more  varied  manner  of 
living.  The  air  was  just  touched  with  that 
aroma  of  good  tobacco  which  is  wont  to 
pervade  the  atmosphere  of  most  bachelors' 
quarters,  and  which,  to  my  nostrils  at  least, 
is  a  comfortable  and  delicious  fragrance ; 
and  the  fire  on  the  hearth — my  fire — was 
leaping  and  crackling  according  to  my  fond 
est  wishes.  The  little  meal,  spread  tempt 
ingly  upon  the  table,  added  the  final  touch 
to  a  very  attractive  picture  of  still-life. 

Darracott  conducted  me  to  a  position 
where  the  rays  from  an  exquisitely-shaded 
bronze  reading-lamp  would  fall  upon  my 
hand,  and,  adding  a  little  water  to  the  soda 
he  had  brought,  mixed  a  paste  with  which 
he  coated  the  scalded  spot.  Then  I  offered 
him  my  handkerchief  to  wrap  round  it,  but 
he  refused  to  avail  himself  of  it. 

"  It  is  too  bad  to  press  any  more  of  your 
wardrobe  into  dispensary  use,"  he  said. 

"  Wait  a  moment." 

171 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

He  went  to  a  cabinet,  and  after  a  brief 
search  returned  with  a  square  of  such  linen 
as  I  had  hitherto  but  dreamt  of.  This  was 
bordered  with  lace  that  fairies  might  have 
woven  from  cobwebs.  The  hue  of  both  lace 
and  linen  was  of  that  mellow  richness  that 
only  is  obtainable  from  the  palette  of  time. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  I  exclaimed,  with  bated 
breath,  for  I  have  a  reverence  for  all  ex 
quisite  things. 

"  A  chalice  veil." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  *?" 

"  Bind  it  upon  a  wound  gained  in  my  ser 
vice."  . 

I  withdrew  my  hand  before  he  could  fulfil 
his  intention. 

"  You  shall  not.  It  is  a  desecration — a 
folly !" 

"  Not  nearly  so  great  a  one  as  the  stanch 
ing  of  those  other  wounds  with  your  hand 
kerchief.  Your  hand,  please." 

"  Nonsense  !"  I  cried.  "  I  will  not  permit 
it.  I  will  not  allow  you  to  soil  so  precious 
a  thing  by  such  a  service  !" 

He  had  by  this  time  possessed  himself 
172 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

again  of  my  hand,  and  was  holding  it  very 
gently  in  his  own,  gazing  thoughtfully  down 
upon  it. 

"  Our  minds  frame  similar  thoughts  con 
cerning  different  objects,"  he  said,  and  shook 
out  the  beautiful  web. 

"  I  will  not  have  it ;  really,  I  will  not  !"  I 
exclaimed,  vehemently,  and  would  have 
drawn  away  my  hand  a  second  time,  but  he 
made  it  tenderly  a  prisoner  with  his  other 
fingers. 

"  But  I  will — and  therefore  you  shall  !"  he 
returned.  "  Miss  Lothrop,  you  are  acting 
foolishly.  Don't  you  see  I  want  to  give  you 
a  memento  as  a  slight  acknowledgment  of 
my  gratitude  to  you  *?  Let  me  wrap  your 
hand  in  the  rarest  possession  I  have,  and 
even  then  I  shall  only  have  hinted  at  the 
recognition  of  the  debt  I  owe  you  for  your 
devotion  to  me  and  mine." 

I  struggled  no  longer.  I  saw  that  he 
really  wished  to  give  me  this  priceless  arti 
cle,  and  it  seemed  tactless  to  make  further 
protest.  But  I  insisted  upon  first  throwing 
my  own  handkerchief  over  the  plaster  into 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

which  the  soda  had  now  formed,  thereby 
protecting  the  chalice  veil  from  injury.  His 
efforts  for  my  relief  were  quite  concluded, 
and  I  bade  him  good-night.  He  laughed  as 
I  did  so. 

"  Now,  what  a  meaningless  phrase  has 
that  which  you  have  just  uttered  come  to 
be  !"  he  said.  "  Much  use  has  killed  all  its 
significance  for  us.  You  speak  it  as  casually 
as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  course  that  the  wish 
it  embodies  would  be  fulfilled  ;  and  yet,  Miss 
Lothrop,  you  can  scarcely  for  a  moment  be 
lieve  that  a  man  who  has  just  received  be 
neath  his  roof  the  shattered  remains  of  a  wife 
who  has  disgraced  and  deserted  him  could 
by  any  chance  pass  a  '  good-night' — now, 
could  you  *?" 

It  seemed  to  me  that  his  question  was 
only  a  means  of  prolonging  the  interview, 
and  this  I  had  no  mind  for,  so  I  moved  to 
wards  the  door  and  made  my  answer  stand 
ing  on  the  threshold. 

"  No,"    I   replied,    with    keen    sympathy. 
"  No,  I  could  not.     I  will  change  my  vale 
diction.     Auf  wiedersehen" 
174 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  I  would  rather  have  it  a  bientdt"  he 
said.  Then,  as  I  smiled  and  nodded,  he 
remarked,  quickly,  "  By  the  way,  Miss 
Lothrop,  how  much  do  you  know  of  the 
true  meaning  of  this  occurrence  which  has 
taken  place  to-night  ?  Has  my  mother  seen 
fit  to  enlighten  you  concerning  our  family 
history?" 

"  No." 

"  And  you  are  thinking  me,  doubtless,  a 
monster,  to  have  alienated  the  affections  of 
both  mother  and  wife  !  Are  you  not  *?" 

I  made  no  reply.  I  felt  the  subject  dan 
gerous  territory. 

"  You  are  non-committal.  Come  back  a 
moment.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you. 
Perhaps,  if  I  say  it,  I  may,  notwithstanding 
other  things,  have  a  good  night.  You  will 
not  come  *?"  as  I  shook  my  head.  "  Good 
God  !  What  is  the  matter  with  me,  Miss 
Lothrop  ?  All  women  seem  to  shrink  from 
me  !  Why  are  you  afraid  of  me  *?" 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  I  said,  advancing  again 
into  the  room.  "  Mr.  Chester,  I  know  al 
most  nothing  of  the  past  events  of  your  life, 
175 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

and  my  acquaintance  with  you  is  of  recent 
date ;  but  I  think  no  woman  would  need  to 
be  endowed  with  extraordinary  perspicacity 
to  feel  assured  that  she  might  trust  you  at 
any  time  and  under  all  circumstances.  Now 
I  am  tired,  and  so  are  you ;  it  is  awfully 
late,  and  I  must  go  to  bed." 

He  was  leaning  against  the  mantelpiece, 
looking  earnestly  at  me.  He  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  you  look  tired.  Go. 
But  shake  hands  on  the  truth  of  your  state 
ment,  won't  you  *?" 

I  drew  near  and  laid  my  hand  in  his.  His 
fingers  closed  tightly  upon  it. 

"  You  do  look  tired,  Dorothy,"  he  re 
peated,  the  name  appearing  to  slip  out  with 
out  his  being  aware  of  it.  "  I  can  with 
perfect  assurance  wish  you  a  good-night. 
Women  of  your  calibre  have  no  uneasy 
memories  to  disturb  their  slumbers.  Good 
night,  and  good-bye." 


176 


CHAPTER   IX. 

T  STARTED,  and  there  must  have  been 
actual  terror  in  my  face.  Without 
meaning  to  do  so,  in  my  sudden  alarm  I 
clutched  his  ringers  as  if  I  would  hold  him 
back  from  leaving  me. 

"  Good-bye  *?"  I  cried  out.  "  You  are  not 
going  away  again  !" 

His  face  suddenly  glowed  with  emotion, 
and  his  eyes  lighted  with  joy.  He  drew  me 
a  little  nearer  by  a  swift  gesture,  as  my  hand 
lay  in  his. 

"And  if  I  am — what  then?"  he  asked, 
holding  his  breath  for  my  answer. 

"  Why — nothing,"  I  stammered,  weakly  ; 
but  there  were  tears  of  bitter  disappointment 
in  my  eyes,  and  I  was  forced  to  drop  my 
head  that  he  might  not  see  them.  He  let 
fall  my  hand  with  a  short  laugh. 

"  Exactly  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  That  is  just 
177 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

what  my  going  away  means  to  every  living 
soul  in  this  world — nothing." 

I  can  only  hope  that  there  may  be  some 
excuse  made  for  my  next  action  on  the 
ground  of  my  over-excited  condition,  for  I 
had  been  through  a  great  strain  during  the 
past  few  hours ;  else  my  conduct  would 
seem  unpardonable.  When  those  last  words, 
uttered  in  a  tone  that  was  indescribably  hope 
less  and  heart-sick,  fell  from  Darracott's  lips, 
I  could  not  conquer  their  appeal  to  my  love 
and  sympathy.  I  did  not  stop  to  reason  as 
to  maidenliness  or  propriety.  My  spirit  was 
rent  and  torn  with  compassion  and  solici 
tude  for  this  man  who  had  been  so  long 
a  wanderer  and  wayfarer,  and  who  was  again, 
I  thought,  about  to  be  driven  forth  from  the 
comfort  and  shelter  of  his  own  home.  I 
looked  bravely  up  into  his  face,  letting  him 
read  all  the  passionate  regret  in  mine,  and 
held  out  the  hand  he  had  dropped,  beseech 
ingly. 

"  You  are  wrong — you  are  wrong !"  I 
cried.  "  It  is  not  true  that  no  one  takes 

heed    of    your   going   or    coming.      Your 
178 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

mother  rejoices  to  have  you  with  her,  and 
I "  I  had  the  grace  to  pause  a  moment. 

"  You  2" 

I  wonder  that  that  look  in  his  eyes  did  not 
vanquish  my  temerity ;  but  it  did  not. 

"  I "  I  repeated  ;  "  I  also  would  have 

you  remain  here  in  your  own  home."  And 
then  I  felt  my  face  burning  hot  with  shame, 
and  I  dropped  it  into  my  hands  and  turned 
away.  I  was  overwhelmed,  mortified,  and 
horribly  abashed  ;  and  yet  I  would  not  go 
till  I  had  the  assurance  from  his  own  lips 
that  he  would  not  leave  us.  I  heard  him 
draw  a  long  breath,  and  there  was  silence  for  a 
few  moments  in  the  room.  When  he  spoke 
there  was  bitter  self-reproach  in  his  voice. 

"  Miss  Lothrop,"  he  said,  "  I  do  not  won 
der  any  longer  that  women  shrink  from  me. 
They  have  divined  in  me  the  latent  villainy 
of  which  I  was  myself  unconscious.  A 
proper  return  I  have  made  for  your  kind 
interest  in  my  well-being.  I  have  been 
like  a  beast  that  turns  and  rends  him  who 
has  cared  for.  it.  I  do  not  ask  your  forgive 
ness.  I  can  only  say  that  I  have  allowed 
179 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

myself  to  fall  a  victim  to  circumstances 
which  have  offered  me  a  temptation  beyond 
any  I  have  ever  known.  I  shall  never  par 
don  my  own  weakness.  Good-night." 

He  went  forward  and  drew  aside  the  por 
tiere  that  shrouded  the  entrance  to  the  hall. 
As  I  passed  out  I  lifted  my  eyes  an  instant 
to  his. 

"  You  have  not  promised  to  stay,"  I  sug 
gested,  wistfully. 

"  I  never  intended  anything  else,"  he  re 
plied,  with  marked  self-disgust.  "  I  allowed 
you  to  remain  under  the  misconception  for 
my  own  selfish  ends." 

"  But — misconception  *?"  I  persisted.  "  Did 
you  not  say  good-bye  ?" 

"  Intending  only  to  convey  its  literal  mean 
ing,  '  God  be  with  you,'  "  he  returned.  "  And 
now,  again,  and  ever  again,  good-bye  !" 

I  echoed  the  word  and  passed  on  my  way. 
At  the  first  bend  in  the  staircase  I  looked 
behind  me.  The  portiere  was  still  drawn 
aside,  and  I  saw  a  dark,  almost  indistinguish 
able  figure  still  standing  beneath  its  folds. 

The  next  day  I  found  myself  abandoned 

180 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

to  my  own  society  until  quite  late  in  the  after 
noon.  I  was  scarcely  dressed  when  Franklin  # 
brought  me  a  message  from  Madam  to  the 
effect  that,  as  she  had  certain  matters  to  oc 
cupy  her  attention  during  the  day,  I  might 
dispose  of  my  time  as  I  chose  until  five 
o'clock,  when  she  begged  that  I  would  come 
to  her  boudoir  for  tea,  as  usual.  Franklin 
also  informed  me  that,  as  both  his  master 
and  mistress  preferred  to  have  breakfast  and 
luncheon  served  to  them  in  their  own  rooms, 
I  might  choose  between  following  their  ex 
ample  or  having  those  meals  in  solitary  state 
in  the  great  dining-room. 

Naturally  I  preferred  the  former  method, 
and  spent  a  quiet  day,  with  my  thoughts  for 
my  only  companions.  Just  before  our  usual 
luncheon-hour  I  was  attracted  to  the  window 
by  the  sound  of  wheels  on  the  gravel.  I 
looked  out  and  saw  a  groom  waiting  with 
the  empty  dog-cart  before  the  main  entrance. 
A  few  moments  later  Darracott  came  down 
the  steps  and  got  into  the  vehicle.  The 
groom  was  dismissed,  and  Darracott  drove 
away  alone. 

iSi 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

Half  an  hour  later  the  sound  of  returning 
wheels  took  me  again  to  the  window.  What 
was  my  surprise  to  see  that  Darracott  was  no 
longer  alone  in  the  cart ;  that  he  had  brought 
a  companion  with  him,  and  that  that  com 
panion  was  none  other  than  David  Spencer. 
I  put  two  and  two  together,  and  the  result 
was  a  conclusion  that  stress  of  circumstance 
had  been  remedial  of  disruption,  and  that 
the  need  for  the  physician  had  resulted  in  the 
recall  of  the  friend. 

When  Franklin  appeared  for  the  purpose 
of  serving  my  luncheon,  I  felt  that  my  par 
ticipation  in  the  occurrences  of  the  past 
night  warranted  me  in  putting  a  question  to 
him. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Mayberry's  daughter  worse,"  I 
asked,  "  that  Dr.  Spencer  has  been  sent 
for?" 

There  was  a  gleam  of  malignant  satis 
faction  in  the  old  man's  face  as  he  replied  in 
the  affirmative. 

"  The  servants  were  not  so  utterly  mis 
taken  in  their  suspicions,  Franklin,"  I  haz 
arded. 

182 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  No,  miss,"  he  answered.  "  I  could  not 
have  believed  it  of  Mrs.  Mayberry." 

"  She  is  greatly  to  be  pitied,  poor  woman  !" 
I  said. 

"  She  is  greatly  to  blame  for  all  that  has 
happened,  the  weak  fool !"  he  ejaculated, 
harshly.  "  If  she  hadn't  thought  to  make 

her  daughter  a  lady "  He  broke  off, 

evidently  remembering  that  it  was  not  his 
place  to  discuss  events  even  with  so  familiar 
a  member  of  the  household  as  I. 

So  impatient  was  I  for  my  interview  with 
Madam  that  it  seemed  to  me  five  o'clock 
would  never  come.  I  knew  that  Dr.  Spen 
cer  was  still  in  the  house,  for  I  had  been  on 
the  alert  for  his  departure,  and  was  convinced 
that  it  had  not  taken  place.  But  when  my 
little  travelling-clock  finally  struck  five  sil 
very  chimes,  and  I  was  about  to  leave  my 
room,  Franklin  reappeared  with  a  request 
from  his  master  that  I  would  give  him  a  few 
moments'  interview  in  the  morning-room.  I 
despatched  a  message  to  Madam  to  inform 
her  why  my  attendance  upon  her  would  be 
somewhat  delayed,  and  with  beating  heart 
183 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

and  wondering  spirit  descended  the  wide 
staircase  to  Mr.  Chester's  sanctum. 

Naturally  I  was  somewhat  embarrassed  at 
the  thought  of  again  meeting  the  man  to 
whom  I  had  so  lately  revealed  my  most 
sacred  feelings.  But  his  nonchalance  and 
matter-of-fact  reception  of  me  soon  put  me 
at  ease  and  banished  my  wretched  self-con 
sciousness.  He  saluted  me  pleasantly  and 
naturally,  with  none  of  that  dangerously 
provocative  emotional  disturbance  which  had 
characterised  his  manner  the  previous  night ; 
and  motioned  me  to  a  seat,  standing  mean 
while  himself. 

"  Miss  Lothrop,"  he  began,  "  I  have  had 
a  long  interview  with  my  mother  this  morn 
ing,  one  result  of  which  has  been  our  mutual 
conclusion  that  you  should  be  informed  of 
every  detail  necessary  to  a  thorough  under 
standing  of  the  wretched  circumstances  which 
surround  the  unhappy  fate  of  the  woman 
whom  you  helped  to  succour  last  night,  and 
who  must,  unwelcome  as  the  necessity  is, 
spend  the  rest  of  those  days  whose  term 

threatens  to  be  very  short  beneath  this  roof. 
184 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

My  mother  desires  herself  to  relate  to  you 
the  miserable  history,  and  I  am  selfishly  will 
ing  to  allow  her  to  do  so.  When  you  shall 
have  heard  it,  you  shall  decide  whether  or 
not  you  wish  to  remain  in  so  tainted  a  house 
hold  as  this.  It  is  asking  much,  perhaps  too 
much,  of  a  pure  young  girl,  such  as  you  are, 
to  request  you  to  do  so,  but  I  would  neither 
ask  nor  allow  it  but  for  the  strong  conviction 
I  have  that  your  presence  and  companion 
ship  have  become  a  necessity  to  my  mother, 
which  I  feel  that  she  cannot  afford  to  dis 
pense  with.  She  is  sadly  broken  and  dis 
tressed  by  this  fresh  disaster  that  has  befallen 
us,  and  I  dread  its  consequences  upon  her. 
For  her  sake  I  would  permit — request,  in 
deed — a  sacrifice  which  otherwise  I  would 
not  tolerate ;  for  to  desire  you  to  live  in  a 
house  polluted  by  the  presence  of  the  woman 
who  is  legally  my  wife  is  to  ask  you  to  place 
yourself  in  a  position  unbecoming  your  girl 
ish  innocence." 

He  paused  a  moment,  turning  restlessly 
away  from  me  and  fingering  in  an  embar 
rassed   fashion  a  Japanese  idol   that    stood 
185 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

upon  the  mantelpiece.  Before  I  could  frame 
a  reply  he  went  on : 

"  Miss  Lothrop,  you  have  in  your  heart 
accused  me  of  injustice  and  coldness,  even 
of  cruelty,  towards  my  mother.  I  cannot 
bear  that  you  should  listen  to  her  history 
and  mine  until  I  have  first  corrected  the 
false  impression  under  which  you  labour,  and 
prepared  you  to  do  better  justice  to  a  man 
who  has  actual  faults  enough  to  stagger 
under  without  being  burdened  with  short 
comings  which  do  not  belong  to  him.  May 
I  bore  you  with  a  few  words  explanatory  of 
that  filial  attitude  of  mine  which  I  know  you 
harshly  condemn?" 

I  bowed,  and  he  continued  : 

"  Ever  since  my  birth  my  mother  has 
been  the  heroine  of  my  dreams.  I  will  not 
dwell  upon  the  passionate  love  and  admira 
tion  I  felt  for  her  as  a  lad,  nor  upon  the  ex 
tent  to  which  I  idealised  her  in  my  young 
manhood.  I  told  you  last  night  how  I  had 
often  longed  to  lay  my  hand  upon  her  hair 
and  dared  not,  and  I  might  have  added 
something  concerning  my  covetousness  of 

186 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

the  caresses  of  which  a  mother  is  usually 
prodigal  towards  her  children,  but  which 
were  coldly  withheld  from  me.  But  it  is 
not  worth  while  to  stir  up  all  the  sick  mem 
ory  of  those  years  that  are  gone  for  ever. 
My  mother  had  no  love  for  me,  and  there 
fore  no  caresses.  A  circumstance  alienated 
her  natural  affection  from  me  before  I  was 
born.  My  grandmother  explained  the  oc 
currence  to  me,  one  day,  when  I  was  a  small 
lad  making  moan  to  her  concerning  the 
irreparable  loss  of  my  mother's  love.  She 
did  it,  doubtless,  with  the  view  of  recon 
ciling  me  to  an  inevitable  fact,  but  her  ex 
planation  and  intention  fell  short  of  their 
mark.  I  decided  then,  and  I  have  never  al 
tered  my  conclusion,  that  my  mother's  atti 
tude  towards  me  was  wholly  without  justifi 
cation.  She  has  herself  admitted,  and  she 
will  doubtless  so  inform  you,  with  boundless 
self-reproach  (for  she  has  a  noble  disposition 
to  acknowledge  freely  the  few  faults  that  mar 
a  well-nigh  perfect  character),  that  accident 
was  the  thief  which  robbed  me  of  my  nat 
ural  heritage ;  but  I  cannot  feel  that  the 
187 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

reason  condones  the  theft.  She  has  visited 
upon  me  the  effects  of  her  own  bereavement. 
Before  I  was  born,  even,  she  turned  from  me 
because  I  was  the  innocent  reminder  of  a 
grief  to  which  she  could  never  become  recon 
ciled.  I  cannot  forgive  the  injustice,  Miss 
Lothrop.  It  has  cankered  my  whole  life. 
Never,  since  that  day  when  I  sought  sympa 
thy  from-  my  grandmother,  have  I  mentioned 
the  subject  to  a  living  soul,  but  I  knew  that 
you  had  been  judging  me,  and  with  no 
leniency.  I  prize  your  regard,  and  I  desired 
to  extenuate  my  conduct  in  your  sight.  In 
your  future  judgment  of  me  in  relation  to  my 
mother,  I  trust  you  will  bear  in  mind  the 
fact  that  she  has  plainly  demonstrated  to  me 
from  my  earliest  childhood  that  she  had  no 
affection  to  bestow  upon  me,  and  that  my 
society  was  uncongenial  to  her.  Now  that 
she  has  become  bereft  of  more  welcome 
sources  of  love,  she  would  perhaps  turn  to 
me  as  a  makeshift ;  but  I  do  not  stand  ready 
to  make  of  my  affection  a  mere  stop-gap." 

He  paused,  frowning  heavily.     Then,  in  a 
lighter  tone,  he  said, — 

1 88 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  What  an  insufferably  egotistical  bore 
you  must  think  me  !  I  have  finished  now, 
however.  Thank  you  for  your  attention. 
How  is  the  hand  to-day*?" 

Although  his  speech  had  been  delivered  in 
a  cold,  matter-of-fact  voice,  obviously  free 
from  any  purpose  of  arousing  my  sympathy 
through  rhetorical  effect,  and  with  a  manner 
as  unemotional  and  impersonal  as  if  he  had 
been  stating  the  case  of  a  wholly  indifferent 
person,  yet  his  recital  had  stirred  me  pro 
foundly.  Nothing  in  life  seems  to  me  so 
cruel  or  inexcusable  as  the  withholding  or 
withdrawing  of  a  mother's  love  from  her 
child.  And  to  think  that  my  dear  lady,  she 
who  had  seemed  to  me  a  well-spring  of  all 
virtue  and  goodness,  should  have  been  guilty 
of  this  grave  and  heinous  offence  !  I  was 
shocked  and  pained  beyond  measure. 

The  strange  and  hitherto  inexplicable 
quality  of  her  regard  for  her  son  became 
now  clearly  defined.  That  constraint,  that 
timidity,  that  deprecating  tentativeness, 
which  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  the 

first  bashful  advances  of  a  timorous  lover, 
189 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

now  bore  plain  significance  to  me.  O  un 
happy  mother,  to  have  so  causelessly  alien 
ated  the  love  of  the  only  being  of  natural 
affiliation  that  Destiny  had  left  to  your  old 
age !  O  sadly  entreated  son,  with  all  that 
wealth  of  native  tenderness  which  even  now, 
after  long  years  of  cold  disregard,  showed 
its  vein  of  rich  ore  through  the  enforced 
evenness  of  speech,  thrown  back,  like  worth 
less  dross,  upon  an  outraged  heart ! 

I  tried  to  make  some  suitable  reply,  but  I 
found  it  difficult  to  command  my  voice.  A 
pathetic  vision  of  that  lonely  boyhood  and 
loveless  youth  rose  painfully  before  me.  My 
heart  ached  for  the  child  who  had  become 
the  man  that  stood  before  me,  and  all  I 
could  say,  as  I  rose  and  held  out  my  hand  to 
him,  were  simple  words  with  which  I  might 
have  comforted  the  child. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  for  you,"  I  said,  stupidly. 
But  I  fancy  my  words  conveyed  more  than 
I  imagined,  for  his  fingers  closed  quite  grate 
fully  over  mine,  while  his  face  flushed  and 
his  eyes  brightened. 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  to  cry  baby,"  he  said, 
190 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

lightly.  "  I  only  wanted  you  to  appreciate 
the  situation — that  is  all.  Now,  my  mother 
is  waiting  for  you.  By  the  way,  you  will 
find  Spencer  with  her."  There  was  a  sort 
of  questioning  penetration  in  the  look  that 
accompanied  this  last  remark. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied  ;  "  I  saw  him  come." 

"  His  presence  here  is  welcome  to  you  ? 
There  has  been  a  reconciliation,  you  know. 
You  are  glad  of  it*?" 

"  Very  glad,"  I  returned,  emphatically. 

His  look  grew  even  more  questioning. 

"  Well,  he  is  a  good  fellow,  David  Spen 
cer.  I  also  am  glad  to  have  him  about  the 
house  again.  Send  him  down  to  me  when 
you  go  up,  will  you  ?" 

I  assented,  and  left  the  room.  I  felt  that 
it  was  just  as  well  to  leave  that  veiled  in 
ference,  which  both  his  look  and  manner 
had  implied,  uncontradicted.  Darracott 
Chester  was  a  married  man ;  his  wife  was  in 
the  house,  but  a  few  rooms  distant  from 
us ;  what  necessity  was  there  for  another 
woman  to  set  him  right  concerning  her  love 

affairs  ? 

191 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

It  was  a  very  great  pleasure  to  see  the 
entente  cordiale  which  had  been  established 
between  my  dear  lady  and  the  good  friend 
to  whom,  though  I  could  not  marry  him,  I 
was  yet  strongly  attached.  As  I  entered  the 
room  they  were  sitting  on  either  side  the 
fire,  and  Madam's  face,  though  it  bore  traces 
of  recent  storm  and  stress,  had  yet  a  glad, 
joyful  look  upon  it.  Dr.  Spencer  rose,  and 
she  stretched  out  her  hand  to  me. 

"  It  is  you,  Dorothy,"  she  said.  "  One  of 

my  boys  has  come  back  to  me "  There 

was  a  pathetic  little  break  in  her  voice,  but 
she  immediately  conquered  it.  "  It  is  a  hap 
piness  I  had  scarcely  dared  hope  for.  Come 
and  welcome  his  return,  my  dear." 

A  little  later,  after  we  had  had  our  tea  and 
David  Spencer  had  left  us,  Madam  bade  me 
draw  a  chair  quite  close  to  her,  and  then, 
with  what  was  very  obviously  a  strong  effort 
to  overcome  a  powerful  reluctance,  she  be 
gan  to  relate  to  me  the  sad  tragedy  of  The 
Ivies.  I  give  it  in  her  own  words. 

"  Dorothy,  my  child,"  she  said,  breaking 

an  interval  of  silence,  which  she  had  per- 
192 


haps  spent  in  trying  to  embolden  a  reluctant 
spirit  to  face  the  ghosts  of  bygone  events, 
"  if  the  love  and  gratitude  I  feel  for  you 
were  to  be  subjected  to  a  great  proof,  none 
could  be  selected  more  distressing  to  me 
than  this  which  I  have  voluntarily  imposed 
upon  myself.  I  am  going  to  rehearse  to  you 
pages  from  one  of  the  saddest  records  ever 
written  in  the  heart  of  a  mother,  and  I  can 
not  perform  the  task  without  exposing  the 
fact  that  I  myself  am  largely  responsible  for 
the  causes  which  render  the  history  so  tragic 
a  one.  My  child,  I  have  failed  wholly  and 
unpardonably  in  the  noblest  mission  that 
God  vouchsafes  to  us  women — the  mission 
of  motherhood.  Two  opportunities  have 
been  afforded  me  of  manifesting  my  fitness 
for  the  divine  vocation,  and  both  have  I 
wasted,  one  through  lack,  and  the  other 
through  excess,  of  ardour.  Oh,  it  is  a  sad 
confession  for  a  woman  to  make,  this — that 
she  has  been  unappreciative  of  God-given 
occasions !  It  is  no  less  sad  for  her  to  be 
forced  to  acknowledge  that  she  has  taken 
idolatrous  advantage  of  them."  She  sighed 
13  »93 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

heavily  and  paused  an  instant ;  then,  in  a 
firmer  tone,  continued : 

"  I  must  begin  far  back  in  the  past,  at  the 
period  of  my  first  marriage.  My  dear,  have 
you  ever,  watching  in  the  early  dawn,  ob 
served  the  sun  rise  slowly  above  the  horizon 
in  great  splendour,  which  promised  marvel 
lous  things  for  the  new  day,  only  to  behold 
it,  even  before  its  full  glory  was  made  mani 
fest,  pass  into  a  dark  and  gloomy  cloud 
which  eclipsed  its  false  prophecy,  and  made 
of  the  span  of  time  that  followed  its  course 
a  dark  and  dreary  interval,  hopeless  of  re 
covered  brightness?  Such  a  transition  as 
that,  Dorothy,  is  typical  of  my  life. 

"  I  was  an  only  child,  with  every  talent 
cultivated  to  its  utmost  extent  by  parents 
who  idolised  me.  I  was  considered  to  have 
more  than  average  personal  endowments,  and 
was  petted  and  indulged  as  the  only  children 
of  the  wealthy  are  wont  to  be.  No  sus 
picion  of  trouble  or  disappointment  over 
shadowed  my  girlhood,  and  I  was  even  so 
fortunate  as  to  love  passionately  the  man 

whom  my  father  selected  for  my  husband. 
194 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

I  was  married  to  Frederic  Chester  on  my 
nineteenth  birthday,  and  as  his  parents  were 
then  living  here  he  caused  the  Stone  House 
to  be  redecorated  and  refitted  for  our  tem 
porary  use.  The  place  had  always  been  the 
abode  of  misfortune ;  no  tenant  had  ever 
occupied  it  without  experiencing  some  ter 
rible  sorrow  or  calamity  while  living  beneath 
its  roof.  This  I  did  not  learn  until  later, 
though  much  about  the  house  affected  me 
unpleasantly  at  first  sight.  But  in  the  flush 
and  assurance  of  perfect  happiness  I  was 
contemptuous  of  the  idea  that  trouble  could 
touch  me.  And,  for  a  time,  it  seemed  in 
deed  as  if  I  wore  an  amulet  against  misfor 
tune.  Perhaps  the  great  joy  of  that  year 
was  enough  for  one  lifetime.  My  husband 
and  I  knew  no  discord ;  no  jarring  of  tastes 
and  sympathies  marred  our  happiness.  We 
had  ample  wealth,  health,  and  love — what 
more  could  we  desire"? 

"On  the  first  anniversary  of  our  wedding-day 

the  blow  fell.     I  was  then  not  strong  enough 

to  accompany  my  husband  in  his  daily  rides  ; 

but,  knowing  how  much  he  enjoyed  them,  I 

195 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

insisted  that  he  should  continue  them  with 
out  me.  On  that  day  he  had  set  off  as  usual, 
and,  as  the  time  for  his  return  drew  near,  I 
went  upon  the  balcony  to  watch  for  and 
welcome  him.  I  was  standing  there,  on  the 
outlook,  when  I  discovered  him  coming,  not 
up  our  own  drive,  but  up  the  poplar  avenue. 
As  he  perceived  me,  he  stopped  to  call  out 
that  he  had  a  message  for  his  mother,  but 
would  come  back  immediately.  I  nodded, 
and,  crying  '  Au  revoir!'  he  rose  in  his  saddle 
to  throw  me  a  kiss,  when,  suddenly,  Frank 
lin's  two  little  children,  who  had  been  play 
ing  behind  the  poplars,  rushed  across  the  road 
just  in  front  of  the  horse.  Their  light,  flut 
tering  dresses  frightened  the  nervous  animal, 
who  plunged  wildly,  and  before  my  husband, 
taken  thus  at  a  disadvantage,  could  regain 
his  mastery  of  the  terrified  creature,  it  had 
backed  to  the  edge  of  the  avenue,  where, 
rearing  madly  on  its  hind  legs,  it  lost  hold 
of  the  crumbling  earth,  and  I,  helpless  to  aid, 
saw  both  horse  and  rider  fall  heavily  over  the 
cliff." 

Here  recollection  became  too  strong  for 
196 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

even  her  self-mastery,  and  she  stopped  her  re 
cital  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  as 
if  to  shut  out  the  painful  scene  which  mem 
ory  vividly  reproduced  before  her  mental 
vision.  I  dared  not  speak.  It  seemed  as  if 
words  of  mere  human  sympathy,  heartfelt  as 
they  might  be,  would  seem  like  a  casual  in 
terruption  of  sacred  reading.  Therefore  I 
held  my  peace,  and  after  a  little  she  regained 
her  composure  and  proceeded. 


197 


CHAPTER    X. 

"AT  that  time  no  fence  guarded  the 
cliff,  and  this  neglect  of  a  simple 
precaution  against  danger  was  a  cause  of  self- 
reproach  with  my  poor  father-in-law  during 
the  remainder  of  his  life.  The  accident  had 
been  immediately  fatal  to  both  the  animal 
and  its  master.  No  spark  of  life  lingered  in 
either  when  they  were  raised  from  the  spot. 

"  I  need  not  dwell  upon  the  extent  of  my 
despair  and  grief.  It  is  only  necessary  to  say 
that  the  shock  precipitated  an  event  which 
was  near  at  hand,  and  within  twenty-four 
hours  I  passed  from  one  of  the  happiest,  one 
of  the  most  joyous  and  hopeful  young  crea 
tures  upon  whom  the  sun  of  love  and  pros 
perity  ever  shone,  into  a  state  of  wretched  and 
desperate  widowhood  and  motherhood  which 
is  so  gloomy,  even  in  retrospect,  that  I  cannot 
bear  to  recall  it. 

"  O  my  child,  I  have  fallen  short  of  the 
198 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

standard  which  God  required  of  me  !  I  have 
failed  to  fulfil  the  demands  His  infinite  wis 
dom  has  laid  upon  me.  I  have  erred  lament 
ably,  and  have  been  weighed  in  the  balance 
and  found  miserably  deficient.  But  a  little, 
a  little  plea  I  must  offer  in  extenuation, 
founded  upon  the  awful  agony  of  that  pe 
riod.  Dorothy,  it  was  a  sudden  and  terrible 
call  to  arms  in  a  life  that  had  never  dreamt 
of  warfare.  It  found  me  unfurnished  with 
weapons  of  defence ;  ill-equipped,  unpre 
pared.  I  knew  not  how  to  meet  the  emer 
gency.  Bred  in  the  lap  of  peace,  shel 
tered  from  even  a  rude  breath,  ignorant  of 
even  the  meaning  of  stress  and  conflict,  how 
could  I  be  expected  valiantly  to  face  and  de 
fend  myself  from  the  enemy  !  And,  alas  !  I 
did  not.  I  proved  myself  a  coward ;  yes, 
even  more  than  that — a  cruel  coward. 

"  My  baby,  that  should  have  been  wel 
comed  as  a  solace  in  the  bitter  hour  of  my 
bereavement,  became  an  object  of  aversion  to 
me.  So  associated  was  he  with  my  grief  that 
his  presence  grew  to  be  insupportable.  I  de 
livered  him  over  almost  entirely  to  the  care 
199 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

of  his  grandmother  and  nurse,  and  avoided 
him  whenever  it  was  possible  for  me  to  do 
so.  It  was  all  but  a  crime  that  I  committed 
against  my  firstborn  in  my  wicked  selfish 
ness,  and  I  sometimes  think  that  God  has 
seen  fit  to  punish  my  sin  by  laying  His 
chastening  Hand,  heavy  with  retribution, 
upon  the  heart  which  coldly  neglected  one 
child  to  make  an  idol  of  another. 

"  I  was  removed  to  The  Ivies.  Here  I 
passed  ten  quiet,  uneventful  years  beneath 
the  roof  of  my  husband's  father  and  mother. 
Tenderly  they  loved  me,  and  no  daughter  was 
ever  more  carefully  watched  over  and  minis 
tered  unto  than  was  their  daughter-in-law. 
During  those  years  my  attachment  for  the 
child  grew  no  stronger.  I  could  not  bring 
myself  (alas  !  I  fear  I  made  slight  effort  to  do 
so)  to  overcome  my  coldness  towards  him. 
And  yet  he  was  a  good  little  lad,  and  gave 
me  almost  no  trouble.  Through  the  long 
perspective  of  my  advanced  years  I  now  look 
back  upon  the  childhood  of  my  son  Darra- 
cott,  and  the  vision  of  its  loneliness  and 
dreariness  fills  me  with  yearning  pity  and 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

ceaseless  remorse.  I  was  oblivious  of  its 
pathos  then.  Thank  God,  the  boy  had  his 
grandmother  to  love  and  make  much  of 
him.  Her  devotion  in  some  measure  re 
paired  my  unpardonable  fault. 

"  Finally,  the  old  people  died.  I  found 
life  at  The  Ivies  unbearable  without  them, 
and  determined  upon  placing  Darracott  at 
school  and  creating  a  new  existence  for  my 
self  by  a  long  sojourn  abroad.  For  three 
years  I  devoted  myself  to  foreign  travel, 
greatly  enjoying  the  variety  and  excitement 
of  constant  change  and  movement  after  the 
extreme  quiet  and  monotony  of  my  home- 
life.  I  was  furnished  with  excellent  letters 
of  introduction,  and  found  ample  opportuni 
ties  afforded  me  for  the  indulgence  of  my 
natural  inclination  for  gaiety,  which  had 
long  been  kept  under  restraint. 

"  One  evening,  at  a  ball  at  the  British 
Embassy  in  Madrid,  I  met  Mr.  Eldredge,  a 
man  who  was  many  years  my  senior,  but 
who  was  a  person  of  finest  endowments  and 
most  finished  culture,  and  who  interested 
me  extremely  by  his  brilliant  conversational 


2OI 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

abilities.  I  experienced  a  keen  delight  in  his 
society.  We  met  frequently,  and  saw  much 
of  each  other ;  and  when,  a  few  months 
later,  he  asked  me  to  become  his  wife,  I 
accepted  him.  I  had  never  thought  to  feel 
again  as  happy  as  I  did  in  my  marriage  with 
Mr.  Eldredge.  He  was  a  man  of  slender 
means,  and  had  frankly  explained  to  me  be 
fore  asking  me  to  marry  him,  that  he  had  an 
income  sufficient  only  for  a  bachelor's  mod 
erate  requirements.  But  I  had  ample  wealth 
at  my  command.  My  widow's  jointure  was 
a  handsome  one,  added  to  which,  as  guar 
dian  of  my  son's  minority,  I  had  control  of 
a  very  large  amount  of  income  from  his 
estate.  After  a  few  months  more  of  travel, 
Mr.  Eldredge  and  I  returned  to  Eldon,  where, 
shortly  after,  my  child  was  born." 

Her  voice  fell  to  a  whisper,  and  the  ten 
der  stress  she  laid  upon  the  words  "  my 
child"  was  far  more  indicative  of  the  depth 
of  her  maternal  affection  than  any  amount 
of  oft-repeated  asseverations  would  have 
been.  The  mere  change  of  formula  and 
intonation  suggested,  unintentionally,  the 


202 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

immeasurable  distance  intervening  between 
her  regard  for  the  elder  and  the  younger  son. 
To  the  first  she  had  alluded  merely  as  "  my 
son,  my  first-born,  the  infant ;"  to  the 
second  she  gave  a  peculiarly  tender  and  dis 
tinctive  title,  implying  an  especially  near 
relationship — "  my  child." 

"  I  cannot  describe  him  to  you,  Dorothy," 
she  went  on  presently.  "  I  dare  not  trust 
myself  to  speak  of  his  beauty,  of  his  gentle, 
lovable  nature,  and  of  his  sweet,  winning 
ways.  Everything  that  Darracott  was  not 
Gerald  was.  Demonstrative,  ardent,  and  im 
pulsive,  overflowing  with  animal  spirits,  he 
was  a  wonderful  contrast  to  his  quiet,  re 
served  elder  brother.  Still,  even  then  I 
was  not  blind  to  the  fact  that  of  the  two 
boys  Darracott  possessed  the  nobler  quali 
ties.  A  more  generous  stepson  never  lived. 
Mr.  Eldredge  bestowed  upon  him  in  large 
measure  the  affection  which  his  own  mother 
withheld,  and  the  two  were  closely  united. 
Until  he  died  my  second  husband  was  always 
honoured  with  the  position  of  master  of 

The  Ivies,  and  had  he  been  actual  owner  of 
203 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

the  house  and  estate  greater  respect  and  def 
erence  could  not  have  been  accorded  him 
than  that  Darracott  insisted  upon  his  re 
ceiving. 

"  My  oldest  son's  bosom  friend  and  con 
stant  companion  was  David  Spencer,  and  the 
two  lads,  much  akin  in  tastes  and  interests, 
were  almost  inseparable  comrades.  Just  as 
Gerald  was  ready  to  enter  college,  his  father 
died.  Darracott  at  once  took  upon  his 
own  shoulders  the  burden  of  management 
of  the  estate,  and,  as  my  own  health  was 
rather  delicate,  he  insisted  upon  procuring  a 
housekeeper  for  me. 

"  What  enormous  gates  turn  upon  small 
hinges !  The  trifling  circumstance  of  my 
need  of  assistance  opened  the  door  to  all  my 
future  trouble.  Mrs.  Mayberry,  a  widow 
with  one  child,  a  girl  of  thirteen  years,  applied 
for  the  position  and  was  engaged.  She  was 
a  very  beautiful  woman  of  a  weak,  blonde 
type,  somewhat  faded  and  worn  in  conse 
quence  of  a  hard  struggle  with  the  world. 
Her  child,  having  been  placed  at  school,  did 

not    accompany    her    hither.      Four    years 
204 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

passed,  and  Mayberry  fulfilled  her  duties  ad 
mirably.  My  eldest  son  had  gone  abroad 
for  a  long  period  of  foreign  travel,  and 
David  Spencer  had  just  begun  to  practise  his 
profession  at  Eldon,  being  almost  as  con 
stant  a  visitor  at  The  Ivies  as  when  my  boys 
were  at  home.  Gerald's  last  year  at  college 
was  almost  completed,  and,  as  he  was  to  join 
Darracott  abroad  immediately  after  his  grad 
uation,  he  decided  to  bid  me  good-bye  at 
the  college  commencement  and  not  return 
to  Eldon. 

"  Just  before  I  left  to  attend  his  gradua 
tion  exercises,  Mayberry  asked  my  permission 
to  bring  her  daughter  Alice  to  The  Ivies  for 
a  visit.  Naturally  I  gave  my  consent,  little 
dreaming  what  misery  it  would  entail  upon 
me.  On  my  return,  therefore,  I  found  the 
girl  ensconced  here,  and  bestowed  upon  her 
a  cordial  welcome,  not  only  for  her  mother's 
sake,  but  because  I  was  really  pleased  to  have 
a  creature  so  young  and  beautiful  as  she 
about  the  house. 

"  Alice  Mayberry  was  the  loveliest  being  I 

have  ever  beheld.     You  have  seen  her  wreck  ; 
205 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

imagine,  then,  what  she  must  have  been  in 
the  first  flush  of  her  dangerous  beauty.  She 
charmed  everyone  with  her  wonderful  fair 
ness  and  joyous  gaiety,  and  seemed  like  a 
butterfly,  as  graceful,  as  radiant,  as  frivolous. 
I  had  been  home  but  a  few  days  when  I 
noticed  that,  although  both  my  sons  were 
absent,  David  Spencer's  visits  here  were  quite 
as  frequent  as  they  had  formerly  been,  and 
soon  I  observed  that  if  Alice,  of  whom  I 
made  a  great  pet,  was  not  with  me  he  ap 
peared  restless  and  discontented.  From  Mrs. 
Spencer  I  learnt  that  the  girl  was  a  constant 
guest  at  the  cottage,  and  finally  I  thought  it 
wise  to  caution  Mayberry  gently  concerning 
the  intimacy  existing  between  the  two  young 
people.  She  affirmed  that  there  was  nothing 
in  it,  but  I  believe  that,  naturally  ambitious 
for  her  daughter  and  anxious  concerning  the 
girl's  future,  she  secretly  encouraged  matters, 
hoping  to  secure  a  good  home  and  husband 
for  Alice.  Affairs  stood  thus  when  I  was 
one  day  greatly  astonished  by  receiving  a 
cable  from  Darracott  informing  me  that  he 

was  to  sail  at  once  for  home,  having  received 
206 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

advices  relating  to  certain  investments  that 
disturbed  him.  In  due  time  he  arrived,  and, 
as  the  positive  date  of  his  coming  was  uncer 
tain,  he  gave  me  a  pleasant  surprise. 

"  Alice  and  I  were  singing  duets  together 
one  evening  in  my  boudoir  when  the  door 
opened  softly  and  my  son  stood  before  us. 
I  saw  at  once  what  an  impression  her  beauty 
made  upon  him  ;  and,  as  the  days  passed, 
his  admiration  for  her  became  positive 
infatuation.  I  use  the  word  advisedly — 
Darracott's  passion  for  the  girl  was  simply 
infatuation ;  I  am  convinced  that  never  did 
he  experience  any  deeper  emotion  towards 
Alice  Mayberry  than  that.  She  merely  cap 
tivated  his  senses  and  bereft  him  of  his 
judgment ;  although  the  blow  which  her 
cruelty  dealt  him  was  as  severe  in  its  imme 
diate  effect  as  though  she  had  been  the  ob 
ject  of  a  more  worthy  love. 

"  David  Spencer  chanced  to  be  away  from 
home  just  then,  in  attendance  upon  a  wealthy 
patient  who  had  taken  him  South  in  his  pro 
fessional  capacity.  When  I  discovered  how 

things  were  going  with  Darracott,  I  warned 
207 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

him  against  yielding  to  Alice's  charms,  tell 
ing  him  that  I  believed  he  would  only  create 
unhappiness  for  himself  by  so  doing,  as  I 
thought  her  already  secretly  plighted  to 
David.  It  could  scarcely  be  expected  that 
my  influence  with  him  would  be  very  strong  ; 
nor  was  it  of  much  avail.  He  listened  to 
me  with  his  usual  deference,  and  then  told 
me  frankly  that  he  should  question  Alice, 
and  if  she  denied  any  such  engagement  and 
would  accept  him  he  should  marry  her  at 
once. 

"  I  had  always  determined  never  to  inter 
fere  in  my  sons'  love  affairs,  believing  it  folly 
to  do  so  ;  still  I  did  urge  him  to  consider 
well  his  decision  before  carrying  it  out,  feel 
ing  convinced,  though  I  was  fond  of  Alice, 
that  she  was  not  the  woman  to  satisfy  a 
grave,  intellectual  man  like  Darracott.  How 
ever,  he  was  completely  under  her  spell,  and 
my  expostulations  went  for  naught.  Finally, 
he  came  to  me  one  day  and  informed  me 
that  he  was  to  be  married  without  delay. 
He  had  offered  himself  to  the  girl,  at  the 

same  time  questioning  her  closely  as  to  her 
208 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

relations  with  David.  These  she  assured 
him  were  merely  of  a  friendly  character, 
and  she  accepted  my  son  without  hesitation. 
I  was  much  distressed,  for  I  felt  how  unwise 
Darracott's  choice  was,  and  I  was  also  firmly 
persuaded  that  David  looked  upon  Alice  as 
in  some  way  bound  to  him.  I  felt  nervous 
and  unhappy  about  the  affair,  and  in  conse 
quence  went  to  Mrs.  Spencer  before  the 
wedding,  and  asked  her  if  she  knew  whether 
there  was  any  understanding  between  Alice 
and  her  son.  She  was  much  disturbed  by 
the  suggestion,  and  I  saw  that  such  an  idea 
was  most  unwelcome  to  her.  The  daughter 
of  my  housekeeper  was  not  the  woman  she 
would  wish  to  see  her  David  marry,  and  she 
frankly  told  me  so,  affirming  at  the  same 
time  her  belief  that  his  interest  in  the  girl 
had  been  merely  of  a  volatile  nature. 

"  I  returned  home  and  summoned  May- 
berry.  To  her  I  put  a  similar  query.  She 
stoutly  maintained  that  there  was  nothing 
between  the  two.  I  was  not  yet  convinced, 
however,  and  begged  Darracott  to  write  at 

once  to  David  and  inform  him  of  his  in- 
i4  209 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

tended  marriage.  He  was  not  altogether 
pleased  at  my  insistence,  but  finally  agreed 
to  do  as  I  desired.  I  know  that  the  letter 
was  written,  but  I  also  know  that  it  was 
never  received." 

Here  Madam  paused,  and  looked  at  me 
significantly. 

"You  think  Mayberry  withheld  it'?"  I 
asked. 

"  I  believe  so,"  she  replied.  "  She  always 
took  charge  of  the  mail-bag,  and  I  think  she 
was  not  above  duplicity.  Her  whole  heart 
was  set  on  the  marriage.  In  due  time  the 
wedding,  very  private  and  quiet,  according 
to  Darracott's  desire,  took  place,  here  at 
home,  and  I  was  left  alone  while  the  honey 
moon  was  fulfilled. 

"  No  letter  had  come  from  David,  and  my 
anxiety  in  his  behalf  was  still  keen  and  alert. 
At  that  time  it  did  not  occur  to  me  that  a 
letter  might  be  intercepted  by  a  member  of 
my  own  household,  and  I  inferred  from 
David's  silence  either  that,  as  he  was  travel 
ling  from  place  to  place,  the  letter  had  not 
been  forwarded,  or  else  that  the  news  it  con- 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

tained  was  so  painful  and  distressing  to  him 
that  he  found  it  impossible  to  send  his  con 
gratulations  on  an  event  which  entailed  so 
much  suffering  upon  himself. 

"One  day,  however,  about  a  week  after 
the  marriage,  I  was  sitting  alone  in  this 
room,  when  David  Spencer  himself  suddenly 
appeared.  I  had  no  idea  that  his  immediate 
return  was  expected,  and  was  so  taken  by 
surprise  at  seeing  him  that  I  forgot  that  the 
events  which  had  intervened  since  his  de 
parture  might  still  be  unknown  to  him. 

" '  Why,  David,  my  dear  boy !'  I  cried, 
cordially,  for  he  was  a  very  great  favourite 
of  mine  ;  '  when  did  you  return  *?  I  am 
delighted  to  see  you  back.' 

"  *  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Eldredge,'  he  replied, 
brightly.  '  Where's  Dare  ?' 

" '  Still  absent,'  I  returned. 

" '  Absent !'  he  echoed.  '  Why,  my  mother 
wrote  me  that  he  had  arrived  some  time 
ago!' 

-"  Then  I  remembered  all  my  fears  and 
apprehensions,  and  began  to  tremble  at  the 
certainty  that  they  were  about  to  be  fulfilled. 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

" '  David,'  I  said,  very  gravely,  '  haven't 
you  been  home  yet*?' 

"  He  shook  his  head,  and  his  face  was  full 
of  perplexity  and  questioning. 

"  *  No ;  I  was  impatient  to  see  Dare 

and '  He  broke  off  abruptly,  but  my 

sinking  heart  filled  in  the  missing  name. 

"  Then,  Dorothy,  there  fell  upon  me  one 
of  the  saddest  duties  I  have  ever  had  to  per 
form — that  of  telling  the  hopeful,  loyal,  un 
suspecting  fellow  that  he  had  been  betrayed 
and  cheated  in  his  dearest  anticipations.  It 
was  a  fearful  shock  to  him,  poor  fellow ! 
and  the  worst  of  it  all  to  me  was  that  his 
former  affection  for  Darracott  seemed  by  the 
revelation  turned  to  gall.  Nothing  could 
convince  him  that  the  fault  lay  with  the 
woman  he  loved ;  it  was  the  man  who  had 
robbed  him,  and  whom  he  held  responsible, 
not  alone  for  the  theft,  but  for  a  deliberately 
planned  and  skilfully  executed  purpose  of 
alienating  Alice's  affection  from  himself. 

When   he   left   the   house  a  little   later  he 

• 

left  a   message  for  Darracott  to  the  effect 
that  it  was  his  desire  that  they  should  never 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

meet  again ;  that  he  neither  wished  nor 
would  receive  explanations  or  excuses  from 
him ;  that  in  future  they  should  be  strangers 
to  each  other.  And  my  son,  proud  and  con 
fident  of  his  wife's  integrity,  accepted  the 
message  without  protest.  And  so  it  was 
that  two  men,  who  from  their  birth  had 
been  united  by  the  closest  ties  of  friendship, 
fell  apart  and  became  enemies.  Never,  from 
that  day  to  this,  did  David  Spencer  again 
enter  my  son's  home. 

"  Darracott  and  his  wife  took  up  their 
abode  here.  I  offered  to  move  away  and  live 
elsewhere ;  but  he,  ever  kind  and  consid 
erate,  would  not  listen  to  this.  Mrs.  May- 
berry  continued  to  administer  the  household, 
though  no  longer  receiving  a  salary  for  so 
doing.  She  was  now  mother  of  the  mistress 
of  The  Ivies,  and  the  position  of  affairs 
might  have  been  a  little  embarrassing  had  it 
not  been  for  the  delicate  tact  which  kept  her 
almost  entirely  in  her  own  apartments. 

"  It  was  not  long  before  it  became  ap 
parent  that  matters  were  not  going  quite 

smoothly  with  the   newly  married    couple. 
213 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

She  was  restless  and  pined  for  gaiety  ;  he  was 
grave  and  studious  and  absorbed  in  his 
duties.  In  fact,  they  hadn't  a  taste  or  sym 
pathy  in  common,  and  the  bond  of  their 
love  was  too  weak  to  unite  them.  He  was 
marvellously  patient  with  her  cuprices,  hu 
mouring  her  whims  with  wonderful  kind 
ness.  I  have  since  thought  that  a  swift 
awakening  to  the  quality  of  the  affection  he 
bore  her  caused  him  to  exercise  this  divine 
forbearance  and  tolerance  towards  her  child 
ish,  silly  whims. 

"  Six  months  after  Darracott's  marriage 
my  child  came  home  to  celebrate  his  twenty- 
first  birthday.  He  had  changed  and  devel 
oped  into  a  glorious  specimen  of  manhood. 
Shall  I  show  him  to  you,  Dorothy  ?" 

She  raised  her  hand  to  her  neck,  and  drew 
from  its  resting-place  upon  her  heart  the 
large  oval  locket  which  I  had  been  shown 
once  before.  Touching  a  spring,  she  opened 
it,  disclosing  a  most  charming  face.  The 
eyes  were  rich,  dark,  and  lustrous,  like  those 
of  Madam,  only  that  they  were  brimming 

with  fun  and  mischief;  the  features  were  ex- 
214 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

quisitely  chiselled,  and  the  mouth  as  deli 
cately  curved  as  that  of  a  child ;  the  com 
plexion  was  a  clear  olive,  glowing  with 
health  and  with  the  swift  coursing  of  youth 
ful  blood ;  and  on  the  smooth  brow  lay  a 
thick,  close-cut  crop  of  dark  rings.  No 
wonder  that  such  a  splendid  young  Apollo 
had  been  the  darling  of  his  mother's  heart ! 
She  held  the  portrait  a  moment  silently  be 
fore  me  that  I  might  fully  realise  its  beauty, 
then  replaced  it,  and  continued : 

"  He  was  like  a  ray  of  sunlight  in  the 
house,  and  from  the  moment  of  his  entrance 
within  them  the  walls  rang  with  mirth  and 
laughter.  He  and  Alice  were  like  two  chil 
dren  ;  inseparable,  constant  comrades,  ever 
planning  some  frolic  or  amusement  to  be 
guile  the  hours.  Darracott  was  absent  much 
of  the  time,  and  warmly  thanked  Gerald  for 
so  brightening  Alice's  life.  His  trust  in  both 
was  perfect  and  entire  as  mine — can  I  say 
more4?  I  would  have  staked  my  life  on  my 
child's  honour.  There  were  many  hospital 
ities  exchanged  between  us  and  our  neigh 
bours,  and  everywhere  Gerald  and  Alice  were 
215 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

favourites.  But,  little  by  little,  I  saw  a 
change  steal  over  the  former ;  he  became 
irritable  and  unlike  himself,  annoyed  at 
trifles,  and  especially  impatient  with  Darra- 
cott,  from  whom  he  would  bear  nothing. 
Ah,  I  blame  myself,  Dorothy,  that  I  didn't 
foresee  what  was  coming  and  avert  the  crime 
before  it  was  too  late !  At  last,  a  day  ar 
rived,  a  terrible  day,  when,  Heaven  help  me  ! 
I  woke  from  my  careless,  happy  life  to  learn 
that  my  child,  my  Gerald,  had  committed 
the  basest  breach  of  honour  and  fidelity. 
He  and  his  brother's  wife  had  fled  together ! 
"  Now  you  know  it,  Dorothy  !  Now  the 
secret  of  my  life  is  revealed  to  you  !  Do 
you  wonder  that  I  seek  to  hide  my  shamed 
and  stricken  head,  and  that  Darracott  Chester 
became  a  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth  *? 
Do  you  wonder  that  the  tidings  of  my 
child's  death,  coming  to  me  only  a  few 
months  after  he  had  committed  that  fearful 
act  of  treachery  towards  one  who  had  been 
a  constant  benefactor  to  him,  were  almost 
welcome  news  to  me,  or  that  in  the  illness 

which  fell  upon  me  my  agony  was  so  intense 
216 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

and  dreadful  that  blindness  came  to  the  eyes 
that  shrank  from  the  gaze  of  all  men,  and 
especially  from  the  look  of  my  first-born*? 
Do  you  think  that,  after  such  humiliation,  I 
could  bear  ever  again  to  look  upon  the 
world  *?  For,  oh  !  my  boy — my  boy  !  Was 
I  not,  through  my  wretched  weakness  and 
partiality,  to  blame  for  the  fostering  of  that 
root  of  deadly  self-indulgence  which,  spring 
ing  into  vigorous  life,  choked  all  the  better 
impulses  of  your  nature,  and  allowed  vicious 
tendencies  to  nest  and  breed  in  its  branches ! 
Oh,  Gerald !  my  child — my  child  !" 

She  was  greatly  moved.  The  strong 
structure  which  had  withstood  such  awful 
storms  of  adversity,  now,  undermined  by  the 
constant  fretting  of  harrowing  reflections, 
was  shaken  to  its  foundations  by  the  breath 
of  memory.  I  took  both  her  hands  in 
mine,  and  laid  my  cheek  caressingly  upon 
them.  How  much  more  dreadful  was  the 
truth  than  my  wildest  surmises  had  con 
ceived  it !  How  terrible  was  the  work  of 
this  girl  who  was  now  sheltered  beneath  the 

roof  she  had  so  disgraced  !     The  ruin  of  six 
217 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

lives  wrought  by  mere  foolish,  unchecked 
vanity  ! 

"  Madam,"  I  cried,  involuntarily,  "  dear 
Madam,  how  could  you  have  her  back"?  It 
was  too  noble — too  forgiving  !  Surely  she 
had  no  claim  on  you  !" 

"  No,  no  claim,  Dorothy ;  but  oh,  my 
dear,  you  cannot  dream  how  I  yearn  for  my 
child !  There  is  no  depth  into  which  I 
would  not  sink,  no  height  I  would  not  scale, 
to  see  my  Gerald  once  again.  Yet  he  was 
base.  Yes,  I  can  bear  to  say  it,  great  though 
my  love  is.  He,  who  had  received  nothing 
but  kindness  and  benefits  from  his  brother ; 
he,  whose  father  had,  by  Darracott's  gen 
erosity,  been  invested  with  the  dignity  and 
honours  of  the  first  gentleman  of  the  county  ; 
he,  living  beneath  his  brother's  roof  and  at 
his  expense,  had  yet  betrayed  that  brother's 
trust !  Could  anything  be  more  vile  %  And 
yet — and  yet,  I,  his  mother,  intense  as  is  my 
abhorrence  of  his  deed,  would  not  see  him 
punished  for  it.  My  love,  selfish  and  unjust 
in  its  partiality,  would  yet  spare  him  retribu 
tion.  And  so,  as  I  would  not  that  even  the 
218 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

shadow  of  my  anger  should  touch  him,  I 
cannot  repulse  the  woman  whom  he  has 
loved.  I  will  not  speak  to  her ;  she  has 
ruined  the  lives  of  both  my  boys ;  but  yet, 
in  a  manner,  she  is  sacred  to  me." 

She  paused.  The  tears  were  running  down 
my  cheeks,  and  though  she  could  not  see 
them  she  felt  them  moistening  the  beautiful 
hands  against  which  I  had  tenderly  pressed 
my  face. 

"  Dear  little  girl !"  she  murmured,  disen 
gaging  one  hand  and  stroking  my  hair 
caressingly.  "  Yours  is  the  first  overt  mani 
festation  of  sympathy  I  have  ever  received, 
Dorothy,  and  it  is  welcome  to  me  beyond 
expression." 

For  a  few  moments  we  remained  thus, 
silent,  but  linked  closely  together  through 
the  bond  of  common  emotion.  Presently 
she  started  and  drew  herself  suddenly  aloof 
from  me,  as  if  ridding  herself  of  a  temp 
tation. 

"  Oh,  how  selfish  I  am !"  she  cried. 
"  How  wrapped  in  my  own  egotism  still, 

notwithstanding  the  lesson  I  have  received ! 
219 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

It  is  of  myself  and  my  own  sorrows  and 
griefs  I  have  been  prating  this  half-hour.  It 
is  for  my  own  miserable  and  justly  inflicted 
sufferings  that  I  have  been  seeking  to  arouse 
your  compassion  and  pity.  It  is  my  own 
self-abnegation  I  have  permitted  you  to  laud 
as  the  means  of  bringing  back  that  wretched 
girl  to  the  home  of  which  she  was  so  incon 
siderate  and  careless  a  mistress  !  And  yet — 
what  am  I,  what  are  my  anguish  and  woe, 
what  are  my  wrongs  and  wretchedness,  what 
my  clemency  and  mercy,  compared  with  my 
son  Darracott,  his  heroic  endurance  and 
noble  forbearance  !  Oh  !  little  Dorothy,  you 
thought  me  fulsome  in  my  praise  of  him 
that  day  when  I  told  you  he  was  modelled 
on  heroic  lines !  I  knew  you  did,  and  I 
also  divined  the  disappointment  you  experi 
enced  upon  seeing  him  for  the  first  time. 
It  is  true  that  in  appearance  he  may  fall 
short  of  a  girlish  ideal ;  but  live  with  him, 
watch  his  daily  life,  penetrate  beneath  the 
outer  crust  of  reserve  and  apparent  indiffer 
ence  under  which  extreme  sensitiveness  seeks 
to  shelter  itself,  and  you  will  discover  a  char- 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

acter  that  cannot  fail  to  arouse  the  enthusiasm 
of  your  earnest  nature ;  and,  once  compre 
hending  the  wonderful  depths,  the  splendid 
magnanimity,  the  glorious  unselfishness  of 
that  character,  you'll  no  longer  wonder  that, 
of  all  the  men  I  have  ever  known,  I  hold  in 
highest  esteem  and  profoundest  veneration 
him  whose  love  I  would  sacrifice  my  own 
life  to  gain,  now  that  to  gain  it  is  too  late — 
my  noble  and  dearly  beloved  son,  Darra- 
cott." 

She  was  very  greatly  moved,  and  I  feared 
the  effect  upon  her  of  such  serious  emotion. 
Therefore  I  determined  to  withdraw,  and  so 
allow  her  to  recover  her  self-control.  In 
most  earnest  phrases  I  thanked  her  for  a 
confidence  which  had  cost  her  so  much, 
and  raised  her  hand  to  kiss  it,  but  she  fore 
stalled  my  intention  by  drawing  me  down 
and  pressing  me  closely,  affectionately,  to  her 
heart,  kissing  me  several  times  upon  lips  and 
cheek  and  brow.  Then,  releasing  me,  she 
motioned  me  to  leave  her,  and,  averting  her 
face,  covered  it  piteously  with  her  slender 
white  hands. 

221 


CHAPTER    XL 

A  LICE  MAYBERRY  lingered  on  for 
weeks.  We  never  saw  her,  for  she 
remained  wholly  in  her  mother's  charge, 
confined  to  the  rooms  which  had  been 
assigned  her.  Everything  which  the  ten- 
derest  solicitude  and  love  could  have  devised 
for  her  comfort  and  welfare  were  procured 
for  her  by  her  husband's  orders.  At  that 
time,  observing  how  considerate  of  her  well- 
being  he  was,  and  how  constantly  he  en 
deavoured  to  render  her  affliction  less  intol 
erable,  I  often  speculated  as  to  how  much 
love  for  her  might  linger  in  the  depths  of  a 
nature  which  was  no  open  book  to  me,  even 
after  I  had  been  subjected  to  a  long  and  in 
timate  companionship  with  it.  Perhaps,  I 
thought,  Madam's  conclusions  had  been 
mistaken  after  all,  and  the  passion  with 
which  Alice  Mayberry  had  inspired  him  had 
gone  deeper  than  she  believed,  and  its  roots 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

still  clung  to  their  places  and  were  throwing 
out  fresh  shoots  of  tender  regard. 

Later,  I  learnt  how  fallacious  were  my 
suspicions,  and  discovered  beyond  perad- 
venture  that  nothing  instigated  Darracott's 
magnanimous  conduct  towards  his  erring 
wife  but  a  divine  charity  that  held  sacred 
and  unaccountable  a  creature  so  punished  by 
a  Higher  Dispensation.  But  at  that  time  I 
had  no  such  cause  for  reassurance,  and  spent 
many  wretched  hours  dwelling  upon  a  fear 
that  was  intolerable  to  me. 

These  hours  were  not  occupied  by  specu 
lation  and  reflection  alone,  however.  May- 
berry  utterly  refused  to  share  the  care  of  her 
daughter  with  a  nurse,  and  therefore  her 
duties  as  housekeeper  were  sadly  neglected. 
Madam  talked  of  procuring  a  substitute,  but 
I  saw  that  the  idea  of  another  stranger  in  the 
house,  under  existing  circumstances,  was 
most  unwelcome  to  her.  Therefore  I  pro 
posed  that  I  should  myself  undertake  the 
position  temporarily,  and  my  proposition, 
after  some  demurring  on  the  grounds  of  ex 
cessive  employment,  was  gratefully  accepted 
223 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

by  Madam.  The  demands  of  a  double 
calling  gave  me  little  leisure  for  my  own 
affairs,  and  I  was  grateful  for  occupation 
which  took  me  out  of  myself  and  allowed 
me  almost  no  time  for  retrospection. 

After  that  one  scene  in  the  morning-room 
there  were  no  tender  passages  between  Dar- 
racott  and  myself.  He  was  careful  to  pre 
serve  a  distant  courtesy  in  his  manner  to 
wards  me,  and  I  held  myself  as  aloof  from 
contact  with  him  as  possible.  I  had  discov 
ered  that  association  with  him  boded  danger 
to  my  peace  of  mind,  and  the  instinct  of 
self-preservation  led  me  to  avoid  him. 

On  rare  occasions  he  would  join  Madam 
and  me  in  her  boudoir  for  a  cup  of  tea,  and 
I  was  always  hopeful,  at  such  times,  of  a 
nearer  rapprochement  between  mother  and 
son.  But,  alas  !  my  hopes  never  fulfilled 
themselves.  While  he  never  again  for  an 
instant  lost  sight  of  the  filial  respect  due  a 
mother  from  her  son,  and  ever  manifested 
the  most  considerate  thoughtfulness  in  his 
conduct  towards  her,  there  never  transpired 

any  abridgment    of  the  unnatural  distance 
224 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

which  separated  them,  such  as  I  was  con 
stantly  on  the  alert  for.  As  time  went  on  I 
began  to  suspect  that  the  presence  in  her 
home  of  this  son  whose  love  she  was  pow 
erless  to  win  was  a  sorer  trial  to  her  than  his 
absence  had  been,  and  I  lamented  in  vain 
over  the  sad  situation ;  for  I  began  to  dis 
cover  that  my  beloved  lady  was  by  degrees 
losing  something  of  her  strength  and  vitality, 
and  I  feared  greatly  lest  she  should  fade  into 
weakness  before  we,  her  constant  associates, 
should  fully  realise  her  condition. 

I  mentioned  my  fears  to  Dr.  Spencer,  who 
had  resumed  a  partial  intimacy  at  The  Ivies ; 
but  he  seemed  to  think  little  of  indications 
which  had  aroused  my  apprehensions.  Ina 
bility  to  continue  her  customary  exercise, 
shortness  of  breath,  and  a  frequent  and  in 
voluntary  placing  of  the  hand  over  the 
region  of  the  heart,  appeared  to  him  but  the 
natural  result  of  the  recent  severe  strain  upon 
her  emotions. 

I  was  uneasy,  nevertheless,  and  continued 
to  watch  her  closely.  One  afternoon,  late  in 
May,  the  season  being  unusually  advanced, 
15  225 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

we  were  sitting,  Madam,  Dr.  Spencer,  and  I, 
in  the  far  end  of  the  entrance  hall,  grouped 
about  the  French  window  of  stained  glass, 
one-half  of  which  stood  open  to  admit  what 
faint  breeze  might  be  stirring.  It  wanted 
but  a  few  minutes  of  the  dinner-hour,  and 
Darracott  had  not  yet  put  in  an  appearance. 
We  were  most  cosily  established,  and  were 
engaged  in  a  familiar,  desultory  discussion 
of  village  affairs  when,  suddenly,  a  light  step 
came  bounding  across  the  turf  outside,  and 
in  another  moment  a  wonderfully  beautiful 
vision  filled  the  space  left  open  to  the  even 
ing  air. 

That  side  of  the  window  which  had  been 
set  ajar  was  the  one  on  which  was  painted 
the  form  of  the  repentant  Magdalene,  and 
through  the  closed  half  streamed  the  rays  of 
the  setting  sun,  illumining  with  glory  the 
majesty  of  the  Divine  Judge,  and  irradiating 
the  gentle  clemency  of  His  features  as  He 
stood  with  upraised  Hand,  apparently  pro 
nouncing  pardon  and  invoking  peace  to  rest 
upon  the  head  of  the  weeping  sinner  who 

had  thrust  herself  into  the  place  of  the  peni- 
226 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

tent  Mary.  For  a  moment,  so  exquisite 
was  the  picture  that  I  forgot  what  menace  it 
boded  to  my  lady's  tranquillity,  and  con 
tinued  to  gaze  upon  it  in  rapt  ecstasy.  Alice 
Chester,  witless  and  distraught  as  she  was, 
was  at  that  moment  the  loveliest  woman  it  is 
possible  to  imagine. 

She  wore  a  loose  gown  of  white,  fashioned 
as  simply  and  with  as  little  regard  to  style 
and  design  as  a  night-robe.  It  fell  about  her 
in  loose  folds,  and  was  confined  at  the  waist 
by  a  cord  and  tassels.  Her  shining  hair  had 
been  carefully  plaited  into  a  long,  thick 
braid,  which  was  left  hanging  far  below  her 
waist,  but  her  restless  motions  and  constant 
movement  had  ruffled  all  the  loose  tendrils 
and  short  locks,  so  that  they  formed  a 
glistening  aureola  about  her  brow.  She  had 
apparently  been  cutting  roses,  for  she  had 
thrust  a  bunch  of  them  into  her  girdle  and 
carried  another  cluster  in  one  hand ;  from 
the  fingers  of  the  other  dangled  a  pair  of 
scissors,  with  which  she  had  probably  pro 
cured  her  floral  booty.  The  excitement 

of  her  escape   and  recovered    freedom  had 
227 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

brought  a  brilliant  light  into  her  blue  eyes 
and  painted  a  lovely  flush  upon  her  delicate 
skin. 

Oh,  who,  beholding  her  thus,  the  very 
incarnation  of  gentleness  and  girlish  beauty, 
as  sweet  and  innocent  to  the  eye  as  one  of 
the  roses  she  held,  could  have  suspected  how 
dangerous  a  creature  she  was  shortly  to  be 
come  by  reason  of  that  awful  taint  which 
lay,  like  a  worm  in  the  calyx  of  a  flower, 
beneath  the  surface  of  her  apparent  perfec 
tion  *?  Not  I — not  I ;  nor,  in  that  preoc 
cupied  moment,  did  David  Spencer,  either, 
bethink  himself  of  it. 

We  were  both  so  absolutely  spell-bound 
by  the  rare  loveliness  of  the  apparition,  of 
which  dear  Madam  in  her  blindness  was 
wholly  unconscious,  that  we  had  no  thought 
to  spare  for  considerations  of  far  greater 
moment.  So  gentle  had  been  the  footfall 
of  the  wasted  and  sadly  attenuated  form 
which  had  settled  like  a  bit  of  thistledown 
in  our  very  midst,  almost  before  we  had  had 
premonition  of  its  coming,  that  it  had  made 

no  impression  even  upon  Madam's  uncom- 
228 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

monly  alert  hearing.  And  we  might  so 
easily  have  averted  the  catastrophe  that  fol 
lowed,  but  for  the  weak  yielding  to  our 
charmed  sensibilities  !  An  instant  later,  how 
bitterly  and  unavailingly  did  we  both  repent 
our  fatal  hesitancy ;  for  in  that  instant  the 
girl  bounded  forward  and  threw  herself  at 
Madam's  side. 

"  Ah — ah  !  Here  you  are,  dear  Madam  !" 
she  cried,  exultingly,  in  a  soft  little  minor 
key,  quite  like  the  sighing  of  the  breeze 
amid  tense  wires.  "  Here  you  are  at  last ! 
I've  looked  so  long  for  you.  But  I  can't 
find  Gerald  anywhere  !  Where  is  he  ?" 

The  unexpectedness  of  the  encounter, 
added  to  the  painful  memories  aroused  by 
the  girl's  speech  and  tone,  forced  a  sharp 
cry  from  my  dear  lady's  usually  guarded 
lips.  She  clutched  Dr.  Spencer's  arm  ner 
vously,  meanwhile  drawing  shrinkingly  away 
from  the  crouching  bit  of  beautiful,  mindless 
matter  at  her  feet. 

"  David,  David !"  she  cried,  in  sharp, 
quavering  accents  ;  "  who  is  that  ?"  And  her 

stately  form  shook  with  a  weak  submission 
229 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

to  mighty  forces  of  emotion  which  wrung 
my  very  soul ;  I  had  so  long  regarded  her  as 
a  strong  tower  of  endurance,  built  stanchly 
upon  a  bed  of  rock. 

The  witless  girl  heard  the  question,  and 
burst  into  a  strange,  but  not  unmusical 
laugh. 

"  Why,  Madam  !"  she  exclaimed,  before 
we  could  interpose  to  divert  her  and  coax 
her  away ;  "  indeed,  that's  an  odd  question 
now  !  Who  am  I,  do  you  ask  *?  I'll  tell  you 
who  I  am.  I'm  Alice  Mayberry,  daughter 
of  the  housekeeper  at  The  Ivies."  She 
smiled  and  nodded  gaily,  as  if  pleased  with 
her  own  intelligence  ;  then  suddenly  checked 
herself,  as  if  another  recollection  had  given 
the  lie  to  her  assertion.  "  No — no  !"  she 
said,  emphatically ;  "  I  am  wrong.  Don't 
you  remember,  Alice,  that  girl  married  Dar- 
racott  Chester1?  That's  who  I  am — Mrs. 
Darracott  Chester,  a  lady  of  rank  and 
position ;  my  mother  said  I  would  be.  A 

good  match  for Who  are  you,  and 

what  right  have  you  to  interrupt  Mrs.  Dar 
racott  Chester*?"  She  turned  upon  me  quite 
230 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

fiercely,  with  an  assumption  of  dignity  that 
would  have  been  absurd  had  it  not  been  so 
unutterably  sad. 

I  was  trying  to  interrupt  the  flow  of  her 
reminiscent  eloquence  ;  but,  fearing  to  rouse 
that  latent  rebellion  and  ugliness  which  ever 
underlies  imbecility,  I  was  obliged  to  desist, 
and  she  rambled  on. 

"  Perhaps  you  did  not  know  I  was  Mrs. 
Darracott '?"  she  suggested,  somewhat  more 
gently.  "Well,  you're  right,  you  know; 
I'm  not,  any  more.  I'm  Mrs.  Gerald,  I 
think — I  think  I  am — am  I  not,  Madam  *?" 
She  paused,  to  await  a  reply  that  did  not 
come. 

Madam  had  buried  her  face  in  her  hands, 
and  was  shaking  like  a  strong  oak  in  the 
grasp  of  a  tempest.  The  girl  regarded  her  a 
moment  in  evident  curiosity  ;  then  her  mean 
ingless  laugh  again  rang  out. 

"  Do  you  want  to  play  peek-a-boo  *?"  she 
asked,  as  one  would  speak  to  a  little  child. 
"  Well,  in  a  minute.  First  I  must  find  out 
who  I  am,  you  know.  Alice  Mayberry — 

Mrs.  Darracott — Mrs.  Gerald  !     Oh  !  which 
231 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

is  it  *? — can't  you  tell,  any  of  you  *?  Well, 
there's  one  person  knows — the  girl's  mother. 
She  says  I'm  a  lost  soul."  She  smiled,  as  if 
pleased  with  the  title.  "  A  lost  soul.  Don't 
you  think  that's  a  good  name  for  me*?" — 
glancing  around  at  us, — "  a  lost  soul !" 

There  was  such  terrible  pathos  in  the  poor 
creature's  smiling  appropriation  of  that  phrase 
of  dire  import,  and  her  apparent  uncon 
sciousness  and  disregard  of  the  immeasurable 
wrong  she  had  done  the  woman  she  ad 
dressed  was  so  indicative  of  her  deranged 
mentality,  that  David  Spencer,  strong  man 
and  injured  lover  though  he  was,  was  obliged 
to  turn  aside  to  conceal  his  emotion,  while  I 
felt  my  own  tears  rolling  heavily  down  my 
cheeks. 

Suddenly  Madam  rose  to  her  feet,  and  so 
abrupt  and  violent  was  the  movement  that  it 
cast  prostrate  upon  the  ground  the  fragile 
form  that  had  sought  to  lean  upon  her  lap. 
Alice  gave  a  surprised  little  cry,  and  remained 
as  she  had  fallen,  gazing  up  at  the  agitated  face 
of  the  woman  she  had  so  bitterly  injured  with 

eyes  wide-stretched  and  wondering. 
232 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Oh,  this  is  intolerable,  beyond  endur 
ance  !"  Madam  cried  out.  "  Will  no  one 
take  her  away?" 

I  had  never  before  realised  how  terribly  sad 
is  the  supplication  of  suddenly  conquered 
strength.  Madam's  despairing  plea  would 
have  nerved  me  to  greater  tasks  than  this, 
and  while  Dr.  Spencer,  bound  helpless  and 
impotent  by  the  same  chain  of  memories 
that  was  strangling  Madam's  soul,  stood  pale 
and  irresolute  beside  the  chair  from  which  he 
had  risen  upon  Alice's  advent,  I  raised  the 
poor  girl  from  the  floor  and  searched  my 
mind  for  a  means  of  relieving  Madam  of 
her  presence.  My  eyes  fell  upon  the  flowers 
at  her  waist,  and  suggested  the  excuse  I 
wanted. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  roses  down  in  the 
garden  behind  the  house?"  I  asked,  tenta 
tively. 

She  turned  her  lovely  eyes,  with  their 
gentle  vacancy  of  expression,  upon  me. 

"  I  don't  seem  to  remember  you,"  she  said, 
shaking  her  head.  "  Are  you,  perhaps,  Dar- 
racott's  other  wife  *?  Gerald  said  that  some 
233 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

other  woman  would  suit  him  better  than  the 
girl  he  first  married.  Did  you  know  her*? 
She  was  a  beauty,  they  said  ;  but  ah  !  vain,  I 
fear,  and — I  cannot  think  just  what  I  would 
call  her.  Wait  a  moment !"  She  looked 
bewildered,  and  as  the  smile  died  from  her 
features  a  terrible  blankness  settled  down 
upon  them.  Raising  her  finger  to  her  fore 
head,  she  tapped  with  it  lightly,  as  if  to  re 
call  her  errant  memory.  Suddenly  the  merry 
smile  broke  forth  again.  "  I  have  it !"  she 
cried,  with  a  ringing  laugh.  "  It  was  weak 
that  I  wanted  to  say.  She  was  weak — yes, 
weak — weak — weak  !  Look  !"  She  de 
tached  one  of  the  petals  from  a  rose,  and 
raising  it  to  a  level  with  her  face,  blew  a 
soft  breath  and  sent  the  tiny  pink  thing  toss 
ing  off  into  space.  "  There  she  goes  ;  pretty, 
isn't  she"?  I  wish  I  could  find  Gerald — I 
want  him  so  !  Where  is  he,  dear  Madam  *?" 
A  sudden  sharp  cry  from  Madam  startled 
us  all. 

"  My  God  !  my  God  !     I  know  not !" 
Throwing  her  hands  upward,  as  if  in  sup 
plication,  the  poor  tortured  mother  tottered 
234 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

and  sank  into  a  chair  that  I  had  placed  for 
her.  A  terrified  look  crept  over  Alice's  face, 
and  she  ran  to  David,  to  whom  she  clung  as 
if  for  protection,  the  while  whimpering  like 
a  frightened  baby. 

Evidently  her  touch  aroused  a  strong  feel 
ing  of  repulsion  in  the  man  who  once  had 
loved  her,  for  he  made  an  effort  to  thrust  her 
off;  but  she  clung  the  tighter  and  refused  to 
let  go  her  clutch  upon  him.  I  saw  that  he 
was  of  little  avail,  stirred  and  constrained  by 
bitter  memories  as  he  was,  and  distractedly 
sought  again  a  pretext  for  ridding  Madam 
of  this  most  unwelcome  intruder.  Deter 
mined  to  make  one  more  effort  to  entice  her 
away,  and  throwing  all  the  persuasiveness  I 
could  muster  into  my  voice,  "  Alice,"  I 
begged,  "  do  come  with  me,  like  a  good 
girl.  Don't  you  see  that  you  are  distressing 
Gerald's  mother'?" 

My  words  produced  an  effect  quite  dif 
ferent  from  what  I  had  anticipated.  In 
stantly  her  whimpering  ceased ;  she  with 
drew  herself  from  Dr.  Spencer ;  a  terrible 
pallor  overspread  her  face,  and  she  gripped 
235 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

her  gown  where  it  lay  loose  above  her  heart. 
Then,  with  a  look  almost  of  intelligence  in 
those  heretofore  wandering  eyes,  she  made  a 
quick,  graceful  movement  and,  before  we 
could  intercept  her,  threw  herself  again  be 
fore  Madam,  crying,  with  apparent  sanity, 
and  awful  woe  and  anguish  in  her  tremulous 
tones, — 

"  It  is — it  is  !  Gerald — Gerald  !  I  told 
you  I  would  go  back  to  her  !  Here  !"  She 
fumbled  at  her  dress,  which,  being  unable  in 
her  agitation  to  unfasten,  she  rent  asunder, 
taking  from  within  it  a  small  packet.  "  I 
promised  him — to — give  it  to — his  mother  !" 

She  thrust  a  little  packet  into  Madam's 
fingers,  and  I  sprang  forward,  determined  to 
put  an  end  to  this  harrowing  scene,  even  if  I 
must  needs  use  force  to  do  so.  I  stooped 
and  threw  my  arms  about  the  slender  figure. 

"  Come,  come,  Alice  !"  I  urged.  "  I  have 
something  to  show  you.  Come." 

I  felt  her  form  yielding  to  my  touch,  and 
she  turned  her  head  and  looked  up  at  me 
with  submissive  eyes  that  promised  success 

to  my  intention.     But  alas  !  in  turning  thus 
236 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

to  look  into  my  face  as  I  stood  behind  her 
she  discovered  what  I,  with  my  back  to  the 
window,  remained  ignorant  of — that  Darra- 
cott  Chester  had  entered  the  room  and  was 
standing  a  few  paces  away,  silently  regarding 
the  scene  with  lowering  brow. 

Her  fragile  form  drew  itself  vigorously 
together.  Its  lax  muscles  grew  tense ;  a 
sudden  determination  seemed  to  endow  the 
enfeebled  organization  with  new  strength. 
A  cry — loud,  fierce,  terrible — burst  from  her 
lips,  and  before  I  could  even  suspect  that  an 
impulse  had  taken  possession  of  her  she  had 
gathered  her  waning  powers  up  for  one  su 
preme  effort,  and  breaking  from  my  hold  had 
rushed  towards  the  man  behind  me,  with  the 
scissors,  diverted  from  their  late  gentle  service 
to  become  the  weapon  of  a  fiercer  purpose, 
glittering  dangerously  and  treacherously,  half 
hidden  within  her  hand. 

No  one  suspected  the  actual  menace  of 
the  assault  save  I,  who  alone  saw  the  imple 
ment,  and  one  other.  How  Madam  in  her 
blindness  discovered  the  meaning  of  that 
wild  cry,  or  what  intuition  guided  her  to 
237 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

avert  the  tragic  consequences  it  boded,  I 
know  not.  Before  I  could  warn  Darracott 
by  word  or  deed,  however ;  before  David 
Spencer,  with  full  possession  of  his  senses, 
could  realise  what  the  distracted  creature's 
sudden  movement  portended,  Madam  had 
divined  all. 

There  was  a  swift  rush  forward,  and  a 
quick  crashing  together  of  two  women's 
forms ;  two  cries  in  unison  rang  out ;  one- 
faint,  spent,  exhausted,  the  tired,  fretful  cry 
of  an  exasperated  child  ;  the  other — a  sound 
that  I  could  never  have  believed  it  possible 
for  my  dear  lady's  gentle  lips  to  utter — a 
sound  that  was  half-snarl,  half-shout,  veno 
mous,  savage,  menacing,  filled  with  all  the 
concentrated  and  long-suppressed  hatred  and 
animosity  of  the  outraged  mother,  who  had 
mistakenly  thought  she  had  learnt  long  since 
the  lesson  of  patient  endurance  and  full  for 
giveness.  Who  knows  what  awful  dregs  of 
resentment  remain,  undreamt  of,  in  breasts 
that  believe  they  have  successfully  applied 
the  great  lesson  of  divine  charity '?  The  old 
Adam  is  oftener  hidden  beneath  an  accumu- 
238 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

lation  of  acquired  Christian  sentiment  than 
routed  in  toto  from  our  spirits. 

When  we  reached  the  two  women  (they 
had  fallen  to  the  ground,  locked  in  each 
other's  embrace)  our  first  thought  was  that 
intense  emotion  had  robbed  them  of  con 
sciousness,  and  that  they  were  both  merely 
insensible.  But  it  did  not  require  the  pro 
fessional  mandate  of  the  physician  to  apprise 
us  of  the  sterner  fate  that  had  overtaken 
poor  Alice.  One  glance  at  the  beautiful 
face  that  lay  upon  Madam's  bosom,  where  it 
had  chanced  to  fall,  was  enough  to  assure  us 
that  the  sudden  fierce  gust  of  passion  which 
had  swept  over  the  flickering  spirit  of  the 
unfortunate  girl  had  sufficed  to  extinguish 
the  feeble  flame  which  had  of  late  so  fitfully 
performed  its  office.  "  The  peace  of  God 
which  passeth  understanding"  already  gave 
repose  to  the  recently  distraught  features. 

We  separated  her  gently  from  Madam, 
across  whose  form  she  lay,  and  as  we  did  so 
Darracott  made  a  discovery  that  forced  a 
terrified  exclamation  from  his  set  lips. 

"My  God!    What  is  this T 
239 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

He  pointed  to  an  ominous  stain  that  ran 
along  the  white  gown  where  the  girl's  side 
had  pressed  against  his  mother's. 

"  She  has  fallen  upon  the  scissors !"  I 
cried,  forgetting  that  the  men  had  no  know 
ledge  of  the  dangerous  instrument  that  had 
been  hidden  in  the  girl's  hand. 

"  Scissors  !"  they  both  ejaculated. 

"  Yes  !"  I  explained,  hurriedly,  while  Dr. 
Spencer  searched  the  slender  body  to  find 
the  whereabouts  of  the  wound.  "  She  meant 
to  strike  you  with  them,  I  think,  Mr.  Chester. 
Oh  !  poor  child — poor  child  !" 

Then  my  thoughts  fled  from  her  to  one 
of  far  greater  consequence,  and  I  turned  to 
Madam,  who  still  lay  in  that  awful  trance 
of  unconsciousness  which  bears  so  horrible 
a  likeness  to  death,  white  and  still,  but  an 
imposing  figure  even  in  her  prostration.  I 
raised  her  head  tenderly  and  placed  it  on  my 
knee.  Then  I  gathered  her  hands  into  mine, 
and  was  about  to  chafe  them  between  my 
palms,  when,  in  raising  the  right  arm,  which 
had  been  stretched  along  her  side,  I  beheld  a 

fearful  sight. 

240 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  Oh  !  here — here  !"  I  cried.  The  two 
men  had  lifted  poor  Alice  and  were  placing 
her  decently  upon  a  lounge.  They  hastened 
towards  me  as  I  called  out,  and  I  pointed  to 
my  dear  lady.  The  side  against  which  her 
arm  had  lain  was  soaked  with  blood,  and 
from  it  protruded  the  handles  of  the  scissors, 
which  but  a  few  minutes  since  had  been 
cutting  roses  from  their  stalks  ! 

"  Oh  !  my  God  !"  exclaimed  Dr.  Spencer ; 
but  Darracott  said  nothing. 

I  glanced  up  at  him.  His  face  was  like 
that  of  the  dead,  or  like  that  of  the  living 
who  lay  senseless  upon  my  knee. 

Dr.  Spencer  tenderly  examined  the  wound, 
as  well  as  he  could  without  removing  the 
sharp  blades. 

"  They  have  gone  deep,  I  fear,"  he  said, 
finally.  "  However,  though  the  wound  must 
be  an  ugly  one,  it  need  not  necessarily  prove 
dangerous.  We  must  get  her  to  the  morn 
ing-room,  Dare ;  can  we  do  it  together,  do 
you  think?" 

Darracott  nodded.  I  know  now  what  he 
suffered  in  those  moments ;  I  suspected  it 

16  241 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

even  then.  That  passionate  love  for  his 
mother  which  he  had  thought  chilled  and 
benumbed  by  coldness  and  neglect  had 
flamed  hotly  into  life  at  sight  of  her  thus 
laid  low. 

"  I  will  ring  for  May  berry,"  I  said,  with  a 
glance  in  the  direction  of  the  lounge.  But 
at  this  suggestion  Darracott  broke  his  silence. 

"  Wait !"  he  commanded,  peremptorily, 
with  scant  regard  as  to  whom  he  was  ad 
dressing.  "No  more  of  that  brood  until 
she  is  removed." 

With  reverent  hands  and  tenderest  care 
they  raised  Madam,  and  bore  her  to  the 
morning-room.  A  temporary  bed  upon  a 
wide  and  ample  lounge  was  quickly  impro 
vised  by  Franklin  (who  had  appeared  to  an 
nounce  dinner  just  as  we  were  in  the  act  of 
lifting  Madam)  and  myself,  and  upon  this 
we  placed  her. 

"  Can  you  assist  me,  or  will  it  be  too 
much  of  an  ordeal  for  you  *?"  the  doctor 
asked.  "  I  can  send  for  my  mother." 

I  scorned  the  proposition,  although  Dar 
racott  was  disposed  to  favour  it. 
242 


MADAM    OF  THE   IVIES 

"No  one  shall  do  for  Madam  but  I,"  I 
insisted.  "  If  your  mother  will  come  to  be 
of  comfort  to  poor  Mayberry,  I  shall  be  re 
lieved.  After  all,  horrible  as  this  is,  she  is  a 
mother  who  has  lost  a  daughter,  and  under 
fearful  circumstances.  She  is  greatly  to  be 
pitied." 

"  My  mother  will  come,"  he  returned, 
briefly.  "  Will  you  go  and  send  a  mes 
senger  for  her,  and  then  come  back  here  at 
once,  please1?  I  shall  need  you  immedi 
ately." 


243 


CHAPTER    XII. 

TT  is  just  ten  years  ago  to-night  since  the 
occurrence  of  the  tragic  event  with 
which  my  last  chapter  closed.  I  am  writing 
these  final  words  in  that  very  morning-room 
which  became  hallowed  to  my  husband  and 
myself  by  the  patiently  endured  suffering 
and  convalescence  of  our  dear  mother.  For 
Madam  recovered  from  her  injury,  to  our 
infinite  joy,  and  as  that  period  of  illness 
served  to  knit  closely  together  the  hearts 
of  parent  and  child,  I  think  my  dear  lady 
grew  almost  to  consider  poor  Alice  a  bene 
factor,  rather  than  a  false  and  treacherous 
enemy. 

But  a  sad  interval  of  dreary  days  and 
wakeful  nights  intervened  before  our  anxious 
hearts  dared  hope  that  our  watching  was  to 
be  rewarded  according  to  our  desires.  That 

interval  brought  Darracott  and  me  into  close 
244 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

communion,  and  I  learnt  to  know  and  appre 
ciate  those  traits  of  character  in  him  which 
Madam  had  so  highly  commended. 

Alice  Mayberry,  or  Alice  Chester,  as  I 
should  properly  call  her  (though  it  has  never 
been  easy  for  me  to  think  of  a  woman  so 
entirely  his  inferior  as  Darracott's  wife),  was 
buried  with  great  privacy.  By  her  grave 
stood  but  three  persons  besides  the  customary 
officials, — Mrs.  Spencer — good,  kindly  soul, 
who  lost  sight  of  all  resentment  in  her  abun 
dant  pity  and  sympathy — Darracott,  and 
David  Spencer.  I  was  obliged  to  remain  in 
attendance  upon  Madam,  whose  precarious 
situation  did  not  admit  of  my  leaving  her 
in  other  hands  ;  Mrs.  Mayberry  had  mysteri 
ously  disappeared  from  The  Ivies  upon  the 
very  night  of  her  daughter's  death. 

If,  in  his  terribly  apprehensive  frame  of 
mind,  Darracott  was  capable  of  experiencing 
any  feeling  of  gratification,  I  think  that  the 
relief  afforded  by  the  assurance  that  he  would 
not  be  obliged  again  to  encounter  the  house 
keeper  was  the  source  of  such  emotion. 
Whither  Mrs.  Mayberry  went,  or  in  what 
245 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

fashion,  what  her  fate  has  been,  or  where  she 
now  is,  we  have  never  learnt. 

I  alone,  I  think,  of  all  who  dwelt  within 
The  Ivies,  felt  real  sympathy  and  sorrow  for 
the  poor  creature.  Her  moral  weakness  was 
like  a  physical  deformity  in  my  eyes,  and  I 
could  not  but  feel  it  an  extenuating  circum 
stance  in  her  wretched  system  of  double- 
dealing  and  pitiful  treachery  towards  a  mis 
tress  whom  she  adored  even  while  she  cheated 
and  betrayed  her.  Therefore  it  was  that  I 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  inform  her  of  the 
double  tragedy  which  had  taken  place  within 
our  beautiful  old  hall,  instead  of  letting  her 
hear  of  it  through  the  medium  of  servants 
who  felt  for  her  only  an  intolerable  aversion. 

It  was  a  sad,  a  miserably  distasteful  mission 
I  undertook  to  perform — worse  even  in  ful 
filment  than  in  anticipation,  and  that  is  say 
ing  much.  I  sought  Mrs.  Mayberry  first  in 
her  own  room,  and  then  in  Alice's  apart 
ment,  but  she  had  discovered  her  daughter's 
absence  and  was  herself  engaged  in  a  search. 
I  was  hurrying  down  the  stairs,  impatient  at 

the  delay,  for  Dr.  Spencer  was  awaiting  my 
246 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

assistance  and  I  was  eager  to  return  to  the 
morning-room,  when  I  met  Franklin,  who 
seemed  to  have  aged  ten  years  since  morning. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Mrs.  Mayberry  is  ?" 
I  asked,  in  a  hushed  voice,  for  the  presence 
of  Death  brooded  over  the  place. 

The  old  man's  face  took  on  a  look  of  sav 
age  hatred.  He  made  a  gesture  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  terrace. 

"  Roaming  about  outside,"  he  replied,  suc 
cinctly.  "  She's  crazy-like  herself." 

A  certain  satisfaction  in  his  expression 
suggested  to  me  a  wretched  foreboding. 

"  Oh,  Franklin  !"  I  cried  ;  "  you  have  not 
told  her?" 

He  nodded  grimly. 

"  Indeed  I  have,"  he  returned,  drily.  "  Few 
pleasures  come  in  my  way,  nowadays." 

He  chuckled  vindictively.  I  cast  one  look 
upon  him  filled  with  withering  contempt  and 
scorn,  and  hastened  on. 

He  had  not  overshot  the  mark  in  describ 
ing  Mayberry's  condition  as  "  crazy-like." 
She  scarcely  recognised  me  as  I  came  up 

with  her,  and  I  had  actually  to  lay  hands  on 

247 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

her  in  order  to  gain  her  attention.  She  was 
almost  running  up  and  down  the  broad  gravel 
sweep,  wringing  her  hands,  tossing  her  head, 
muttering  and  crying  to  herself,  calling  out 
fierce,  denunciatory  epithets  and  broken  sen 
tences  ;  appealing  now  to  the  forgiveness  of 
God  for  the  result  of  her  own  misdeeds, 
which  she  wholly  attributed  to  others,  and, 
again,  reviling  the  memory  of  the  poor  mis 
guided  girl  whose  spirit  had  gone  forth  to 
meet  its  Judge. 

When  I  succeeded  in  arresting  her  steps, 
I  actually  shrank  from  the  wretched  spectacle 
she  presented.  It  was  difficult  to  show  ten 
der  regard  for  so  wild  an  object.  But  I  did 
my  best. 

"  Mrs.  Mayberry,"  I  began,  gently,  "  you 
know  Alice  is  dead?" 

Her  eyes  roamed  restlessly  about,  but  she 
nodded. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  A  good  thing  !  She 
has  cheated  the  hangman." 

I  shuddered  and  drew  away.    What  nature 
had  the  woman  *?     Yet  I  had  pity  for  the  ter 
rible  retribution  that  had  overtaken  her. 
248 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  Hush  !"  I  said.  "  How  can  you  speak 
thus  of  your  own  child*?" 

"  She  would  have  killed  Madam,"  she  re 
turned,  sullenly. 

"  It  is  not  so,"  I  answered,  glad  to  be 
able  to  say  something  in  the  dead  girl's 
favor.  "  She  had  no  thought  of  harming 
Madam."  For  the  first  time  the  wander 
ing  gaze  fixed  itself  steadily  on  mine.  A 
dawning  hope  enkindled  the  working  fea 
tures. 

"  What  ? — what  *?"  she  stammered,  un 
certainly,  as  if  she  had  not  heard  aright. 

"  It  was  not  Madam  whom  she  attacked," 
I  replied,  quietly,  "  but  her  son." 

The  woman's  face  became  positively 
radiant. 

"  Oh  !"  she  burst  forth,  wildly ;  "  is  this 
true1?  Say— is  it?  is  it?" 

I  related  the  details  of  the  scene  to  her, 
and  gained  such  reward  as  I  might  have  ex 
pected  from  one  of  her  small  and  despicable 
calibre.  Her  face  glowed  with  satisfaction, 
and  she  cast  a  sly,  insinuating  look  upon  me 

as  I  concluded. 

249 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

"  Ah !  she  had  method  in  her  madness, 
after  all,  my  poor  Alice  !"  she  croaked,  in 
those  tones  which,  always  horrible  to  me, 
were  doubly  so  now  by  reason  of  the  sinister 
exultation  they  manifested.  "  I  can  forgive 
her  if  she  did  not  aim  at  Madam.  It  is  ex 
cusable  for  a  jealous  wife  to  attack  her 
husband  when  she  sees  him  paying  court 
elsewhere." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  meaning  of 
her  glance  or  the  point  of  her  remark.  Both 
were  tipped  with  venom  and  plainly  directed 
at  me.  My  sympathy  congealed  into  cold 
contempt.  I  withdrew  the  reassuring  hand 
I  had  placed  on  her  shoulder. 

"  You  are  a  malignant  and  worthless 
woman !"  I  said,  with  freezing  dignity,  turn 
ing  to  leave  her.  "  You  are  beneath  the 
consideration  of  even  the  most  kindly  dis 
posed.  I  came  here  to  comfort  you  as  well 
as  I  might,  but  you  have  turned  my  regard 
for  your  trouble  into  disgust  for  your  char 
acter.  I  will  leave  you.  Your  daughter 
still  lies  in  the  hall.  If  you  have  any  natural 

humanity  in  you,  I  would  advise  your  pay- 
250 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

ing  some  attention  to  her  removal ;  else  it 
may  fall  to  the  lot  of  unfriendly  servants  to 
look  after  it." 

With  this  I  left  her  and  re-entered  the 
house.  I  never  have  seen  her  since. 

It  was  a  great  comfort  to  me,  and  to 
Darracott  also,  to  avail  ourselves  of  good 
Mrs.  Spencer's  offer  to  become  a  temporary 
resident  at  The  Ivies.  My  position,  with 
Madam  confined  to  her  room  through  ill 
ness,  and  with  possible  conjecture  and  sus 
picions  rife  among  the  servants,  such  as  I 
should  never  have  dreamt  of  but  for  Mrs. 
Mayberry's  malicious  speech,  was  somewhat 
awkward  and  uncomfortable.  I  felt  greatly 
relieved  to  have  another  and  an  older  woman 
at  the  head  of  the  household  as  matron  of 
the  establishment.  I  had  abstracted  from 
Madam's  fingers  the  little  packet  which  Alice 
had  given  her,  and  held  it  for  its  owner's  re 
ception  when  she  should  be  sufficiently  re 
covered  to  bear  the  emotion  which  I  knew 
the  sight  of  it  must  arouse.  It  was  evidently 
a  letter  from  her  son,  folded  into  small  com 
pass  and  tied  about  with  narrow  black  ribbon 
251 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

— a  legacy  which  should  have  been  long  ago 
delivered  into  her  possession. 

Notwithstanding  the  very  great  anxiety 
by  which  I  was  oppressed  during  my  dear 
lady's  illness,  I  think  that  period  was  by  far 
the  happiest  of  my  life.  In  the  first  place, 
there  is  no  privilege  so  dear  to  a  true  woman 
as  that  of  ministering  to  others,  of  feeling 
herself  of  vital  consequence  to  the  welfare 
of  someone  dear  to  her.  Then,  I  was  an 
object  of  the  most  watchful  care  of  two 
men,  one  of  whom  was  dear  to  me  as  a  kind 
and  devoted  friend,  while  for  the  other  I  was 
daily  growing  more  and  more  conscious  of  a 
deep  and  increasing  love. 

Oh  !  those  long,  delicious  hours  spent  with 
Darracott  by  the  bedside  of  one  whom  we 
both  adored  !  And  the  delightful  strolls  up 
and  down  the  terrace  when,  our  patient  sleep 
ing,  Mrs.  Spencer  insisted  upon  assuming  our 
post  that  we  might  gain  the  much-needed 
refreshment  of  the  outer  air  ! 

No  chapter  in  the  man's  life  was  left  un- 
revealed  to  me  during  that  interval.  Freely, 

but  with  no  egotism,  he  made  me  acquainted 
252 


MADAM   OF   THE   IVIES 

with  all  his  past,  until  I  came  to  know  him 
as  intimately  as  I  believe  every  woman  should 
know  the  man  she  marries.  There  were  some 
pages  not  quite  so  admirable  as  others  ;  some 
places  which  showed  evil  influences  at  work  in 
the  noble  mind  ;  some  scenes  where  passion 
and  revolt  against  an  untoward  fate  threat 
ened  to  circumvent  the  firmness  and  up 
rightness  of  a  fine  and  honourable  soul ;  but 
these  only  endeared  my  hero  more  warmly 
to  me.  I  loved  him,  not  for  his  virtues 
alone,  but  for  his  weaknesses  also. 

He  spoke  to  me  freely  of  the  passionate 
sufferings  of  his  boyhood,  when,  for  no  fault 
of  his  own,  he  had  been  deprived  of  the  one 
blessing  which  seemed  to  him  of  all  others 
most  to  be  desired.  The  loss  of  his  mother's 
love  was  an  injury  to  which  he  had  never 
become  reconciled. 

"  It  was  not  merely  the  fact  that  she  had 
no  affection  to  bestow  upon  me  that  wounded 
and  tortured  me,"  he  said,  "  but  the  additional 
circumstance  of  witnessing  her  lavish  de- 
monstrativeness  towards  Gerald.  And  when 
that  day  arrived  upon  which  her  darling  and 
253 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

idol  committed  against  me,  beneath  my  very 
roof,  the  vilest  act  of  treachery  which  one 
man  can  commit  against  another,  even  then 
it  was  for  him  and  his  sin  that  her  heart  bled, 
although  her  sense  of  justice  inclined  her  to 
espouse  my  injuries." 

"  But  she  loves  you  now — she  does,  she 
does,"  was  my  constantly  reiterated  rejoinder  ; 
at  which  he  would  smile  incredulously  and 
shake  his  head. 

One  day,  to  this  oft-repeated  response  of 
mine  he  returned  a  reply  that  aroused  fresh 
suspicions  of  Mrs.  Mayberry  in  my  mind. 

"  If  she  loved  me,  really  loved  me  with 
genuine  and  not  perfunctory  affection,"  he 
said,  "  would  she  have  constantly  besought 
me  in  her  letters  not  to  return,  to  remain 
away  from  my  home,  to  absent  myself  from 
her  society  until  she  should  be  better  able  to 
bear  the  companionship  of  one  so  closely 
associated  with  her  grief  and  loss*?" 

Then  it  was  that  a  light  dawned  upon  me. 

"  Did  you  know  that  Mrs.  Mayberry 
wrote  those  letters  ?"  I  asked.  "  Might  it 
not  be  that  she  expressed  in  them  sentiments 
254 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

of  her  own,  which  were  entire  strangers  to 
her  mistress's  breast1?" 

He  looked  surprised. 

"  Mayberry  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Oh,  no  ; 
they  were  in  my  mother's  handwriting." 

"  Or  in  an  excellent  imitation  of  it,"  I  re 
turned  ;  and  then  for  the  first  time  I  made 
him  aware  of  the  fact  that  Madam  had  em 
ployed  her  housekeeper  as  amanuensis,  that 
she  might  keep  from  him  the  knowledge  of 
her  affliction. 

From  the  look  that  came  into  his  face  as 
I  threw  this  strong  doubt  upon  that  con 
clusion  which  he  had  formed  concerning  his 
mother's  wish  to  keep  him  at  a  distance,  I 
imagined  that  this  last  act  of  treachery  of 
Mayberry's — as  I  could  not  but  believe  it, 
and  as  I  afterwards  proved  it  to  be — had 
been  the  thorn  that  rankled  sorest  in  that 
sadly  misprized  filial  affection  of  his.  He 
seemed  much  brighter,  in  far  gayer  spirits, 
after  my  suggestion  had  taken  effect. 

A  few  days  after  this,  late  one  afternoon, 
I  was  sitting  by  Madam's  bedside.  Darracott 
was  also  in  the  room,  but  at  a  distance,  sit- 
255 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

ting  by  a  window  reading.  Madam  had  re 
covered  consciousness  and  was  aware  of  her 
condition  and  surroundings,  but  Dr.  Spencer 
had  forbidden  conversation  or  exertion  of 
any  sort,  for  she  was  still  very  weak  from 
loss  of  blood.  She  lay  with  her  eyes  wide 
open,  gazing  steadfastly  before  her,  but  see 
ing  nothing.  Presently  she  spoke  : 

"  Who  is  with  me*? — you,  little  Dorothy  *?" 

"  Yes,  dear  Madam." 

A  brief  silence.  Then,  "  No  harm  came 
to  him — to  my  child,  Dorothy*?" 

I  quivered  at  the  appellation  which  had 
been  hitherto  reserved  exclusively  for  another, 
and  I  could  hear  a  deep  breath  drawn  over 
there  by  the  window. 

"  No  harm,  dear  Madam,"  I  said. 

"  Thank  God  !  O  my  God,  I  do  thank 
Thee !" 

There  was  another  pause ;  and  then  I  was 
possessed  by  an  impulse  to  do  something 
which  would  have  disqualified  me  for  ever 
as  a  nurse  in  Dr.  Spencer's  sight.  I  rose,  and 
approaching  her  closely,  knelt  down  and  took 

her  hand  in  mine.     Then  to  her  I  put   a 
256 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

question  that  brought  about  results  which 
were  a  better  panacea  for  her  ills  than  were 
all  the  doctor's  medicaments. 

"And  if  he  had  been  injured,  dear  Madam," 
I  suggested,  "  what  then  ?  It  is  only  Darra- 
cott,  you  know — not  Gerald." 

Surely  I  was  a  bold  and  venturesome 
maiden.  My  dear  lady  threw  my  hand  from 
her  with  some  violence. 

"  Only  Darracott !  Only  Darracott !"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Only  the  son  who  has  never 
from  the  moment  of  his  birth  given  me  one 
moment's  anxiety  !  Only  the  son  who,  child 
and  man,  has  studied  and  considered  my  com 
fort  and  wishes  in  every  respect !  Only  my 
first-born,  whose  love  and  devotion  I  never 
prized  until  they  began  to  slip  away  from  my 
careless  possession !  Only  Darracott,  the 
child  and  darling  of  my  old  age,  for  whose 
happiness  and  well-being  I  would  gladly  lay 
down  my  life  !  Oh,  Dorothy,  how  little  you 
imagine  when  you  say  '  only  Darracott'  that 
it  is  in  very  truth  '  only  Darracott'  who  now 
fills  every  nook  and  corner  of  my  heart !" 

The  desperate  longing  and  regret  in  her 
i7  257 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

voice  would  have  touched  the  most  callous 
breast.  I  heard  a  movement  behind  me,  and 
knew  that  Darracott  had  risen  impulsively  at 
her  words.  Turning,  I  raised  my  hand  to 
stay  his  advance,  for  I  divined  what  effect 
her  words  had  produced  upon  him,  but  felt 
that  not  yet  was  the  time  fully  ripe  for  a 
reconciliation.  The  genuineness  of  her  love 
for  him  must  be  proved  beyond  the  possi 
bility  of  a  doubt,  so  that,  in  the  future,  re 
action  from  his  present  mood  might  not  be 
permitted  to  breed  suspicion  in  his  mind.  I 
rose  from  my  kneeling  posture  and  stood  be 
side  the  bed,  still  holding  Madam's  white  and 
shrunken  hand  within  my  own. 

"  Dear  Madam,"  I  said,  a  little  tremulously, 
for  this  was  indeed  a  great,  perhaps  an  un 
warrantable,  responsibility  I  was  taking  upon 
myself,  "  do  you  remember  a  little  packet 
that  Alice  gave  you  that  sad  afternoon4?" 

She  nodded  her  head  in  assent. 

"  You  remember  that  she  said  it  was  from 
your  son  Gerald*?" 

Another  assenting  motion. 

"  It  is,  I  think,  a  letter.     What  if  it  bids 
258 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

you  desert  the  son  who  remains  to  you,  and 
adopt  in  his  place,  as  daughter,  the  afflicted 
girl  whom  your  dead  son  loved?" 

Madam  had  no  knowledge  of  Alice's 
death,  and  this  was  indeed  a  crucial  test  I 
was  subjecting  her  recently  vaunted  love  to, 
a  choice  between  the  "  child  and  darling  of 
her  old  age"  and  the  dying  request  of  the 
idol  of  a  lifetime.  But  not  an  instant  did 
she  hesitate  in  her  answer.  She  withdrew 
her  hand  from  my  grasp,  and,  clasping  it  in 
its  fellow,  raised  both  as  if  in  supplication, 
while  a  bright  and  beautiful  light  dawned 
upon  her  pallid  countenance,  giving  it  a 
heavenly  radiance  of  expression. 

"  Oh,  if  indeed  God  would  afford  me  such 
an  opportunity  for  atonement !"  she  cried, 
softly.  "  Oh,  to  be  allowed  a  chance  for 
even  so  slight  a  compensation  !" 

"  Then  you  would  still  cleave  to  Dar- 
racott?' 

She  hesitated  a  moment  before  replying. 
Then,  in  a  slow  and  solemn  tone,  in  linger 
ing,  measured  accents,  she  said, — 

"  If  there  could  be  choice  given  me  to- 
259 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES. 

day,  not  between  my  son  Darracott  and  the 
woman  who  blighted  his  life,  but  between 
him  and  the  brother  who  assisted  in  that 
ruin,  I  would  choose  not  the  son  whom  I 
idolised  until  he  became  a  villain,  but  my 
beloved  child  whom  I  neglected  until  I  dis 
covered  that  my  heart  was  breaking  for  want 
of  the  love  I  had  so  long  disregarded." 

The  man  behind  me  was  striding  impetu 
ously  forward.  I  hurriedly  asked  another 
question  before  his  presence  should  thrust 
mine  aside. 

"  And  this  tardy  justice  is  not  simply  the 
result  of  awakened  conscience,  Madam*?" 
My  utterance  was  almost  breathless  in  its 
haste.  My  dear  lady  gave  a  sharp,  quick 
cry,  that  was  almost  a  sob. 

"  Oh,  no  !  Oh,  no — no  !"  she  returned. 
"  The  result  of  awakened  love,  Dorothy  ! 

0  Father  in  Heaven,  restore  to  me  the  heart 
of  my  boy  !" 

I  turned  then,  and   sped  from  the  room. 

1  had  no  longer  a  right  there.     In  the  hall  I 
met  Dr.  Spencer,   and  to  him  I  made  full 

confession  of  my  guilt.     I  was  obliged  to 

260 


MADAM    OF    THE   IVIES 

acknowledge  it,  for  the  tears  were  streaming 
down  my  face,  and  he  was  inquisitive  con 
cerning  their  cause.  He  looked  grave  and 
shook  his  head,  but  I  remained  obstinate  in. 
approval  of  my  conduct. 

"  Even  if  she  should  die  from  the  effects 
of  what  you  call  my  imprudence,"  I  retorted, 
"  the  brief  joy  of  reunion  with  her  son  is 
worth  twenty  years  of  continued  estrange 
ment  and  suffering." 

But  she  did  not  die.  From  that  hour 
she  mended,  having  a  cause  to  induce  her 
recovery,  and  Dr.  Spencer  has  always 
generously  acknowledged  that  I  was  the 
physician  to  restore  her  to  health. 

That  evening  Darracott  and  I  took  our 
stroll  on  the  terrace  after  dinner.  He  seemed 
much  preoccupied,  and  was  but  a  dull  com 
panion.  Finally  he  said, — 

"  We  have  been  doing  my  brother  Gerald 
an  injustice  all  this  time." 

I  glanced  up  at  him  inquiringly.  His 
face  looked  tired  and  white,  but  it  wore  an 
expression  of  peace  which  was  new  to  it. 

"  I  opened  his  letter  this  afternoon  and 
261 


MADAM    OF   THE   IVIES 

read  it  to  my  mother,  by  her  wish.  It  seems 
that  he  and — the  woman,  did  not  leave  here 
together,  as  we  had  always  supposed.  He 
fled  in  order  to  preserve  his  honour,  being 
aware  of  the  temptations  her  society  exposed 
him  to  ;  and  she  followed  him  without  his 
knowledge,  discovered  his  asylum,  and  in 
sisted  upon  sharing  it.  I  am  glad  that  I  can 
think  more  leniently  of  him,  and  I  am  also 
thankful  that  my  mother's  memories  of  him 
will  be  less  painful." 

No  one  could  doubt  the  sincerity  of  his 
words.  To  his  noble  nature  it  was,  I  knew, 
a  matter  of  profound  thanksgiving  that  the 
brother  who  had  been  so  deeply  indebted  to 
him  had  been  proved  less  unworthy  his 
benefactions.  My  heart  grew  warm  within 
me  at  this  new  evidence  of  his  magnanimity. 
Truly,  he  was  a  worthy  son  even  of  Madam 
as  I  had  first  conceived  her — flawless,  im 
peccable,  above  suspicion  or  reproach. 

Again  silence  fell  between  us.  We  were 
both  busy  with  our  own  thoughts.  Sud 
denly  he  put  a  question  to  me  so  abruptly 

that  it  almost  rendered  me  speechless. 
262 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  How  do  you  feel  about  widowers,  Doro 
thy  V"  he  asked. 

My  heart  gave  a  quick  leap,  and  then  I 
controlled  its  impetuosity  and  answered  flip 
pantly  with  a  counter-question. 

"  Genus  or  individuals  *?" 

"  Oh,  genus  !"  he  replied,  with  a  quizzical 
look  in  his  grey  eyes. 

"  I  don't  fancy  them,"  I  returned,  as  coolly 
as  he. 

"Why  not?' 

"  They  are  apt  to  dwell  too  wearisomely 
upon  the  virtues  of  the  departed." 

"  But  if  the  departed  were  without  vir 
tue?" 

"  It  is  a  quality  easily  manufactured  after 
death,"  I  replied. 

"  But  if  the  widower  under  discussion  be 
without  imagination  sufficient  for  the  under 
taking  *?"  he  continued  ;  and  by  that  time  he 
had  taken  both  my  hands  into  his,  and  I  felt 
there  was  imminent  danger  of  my  whole 
body  being  likewise  taken  possession  of.  I 
trembled,  but  met  his  sallies  bravely.  I  was 

proud  of  the  evenness  of  my  voice. 
263 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

"  You  forget,"  I  said.  "  We  were  en 
gaged  in  generalities.  With  individuals " 

I  paused,  and  confess  I  broke  down.  Who 
could  have  gone  on  calmly,  folded  close 
to  a  man's  heart,  with  its  heavy  throbs  din 
ning  into  the  ears  and  deafening  the  under 
standing  ? 

"  With  individuals  it  is  quite  different,  my 
darling,  is  it  not?  Of  one  individual  you 
may  make  the  exception  which  proves  your 
rule.  Dorothy,  I  arn  a  brave  man  to  trust 
again  a  woman  after  my  experience.  But  I 
do  trust  one,  my  beloved ;  trust  her  as  I 
have  never  before  believed  in  anyone  ;  love 
her  with  a  love  beyond  that  I  have  given  my 
mother  ;  and  desire  her — oh,  my  dearest ! 
desire  her  as  a  man  but  once  in  the  course 
of  his  whole  existence  desires  a  woman,  with 
passionate  reverence  for  her  perfect  woman 
hood,  with  unswerving  faith  in  her  integrity, 
with  unutterable  longing  for  her  lifelong  and 
intimate  companionship.  Dorothy,  Dorothy 
— how  is  it  to  be  with  me  now  in  this  crisis  *? 
Is  the  one  woman  whom  I  so  covet  going  to 

forgive  my  widowerhood  and  make  amends 

264 


MADAM    OF   THE    IVIES 

to  me  for  a  wretched  past1?  Say,  dear  one, 
is  she  ?" 

You  know  what  I  answered.  I  have 
already  told  you  that  I  became  Darracott's 
wife.  Few  marriages,  I  believe,  are  as  truly 
such  as  ours.  As  yet  no  cloud,  save  the 
passing  away  five  years  ago  of  our  dear 
mother,  has  ever  rested  upon  it.  A  more 
united  trio  than  Darracott,  Madam,  and  I 
could  not  well  be  imagined.  Just  before  she 
peacefully  yielded  up  her  spirit  to  God, 
Madam  said  to  me,  one  day, — 

"  My  dear  daughter  Dorothy,  when  I  go 
back  into  the  past  and  review  bygone  events 
and  actions,  I  can  think  of  no  single  one  in 
my  whole  life  whose  results  have  been  so 
completely  successful  and  happy  as  that  of 
the  insertion  of  my  advertisement  for  a  com 
panion." 

And  so  I,  when  in  my  turn  I  consider  the 
various  occasions  upon  which  I  have  obeyed 
the  leading  of  that  indefinable  impulse  which, 
even  now,  after  it  has  so  splendidly  triumphed 
over  the  opprobrium  cast  upon  it  by  the 

slower  judgment  of  others,  my  mother  con- 
265 


MADAM   OF  THE   IVIES 

tinues  to  distrust,  I  select  as  pre-eminent 
among  them  that  of  a  long-past  February 
afternoon  when  I  was  urged  to  burn  my 
bridges  behind  me  and  set  forth  as  applicant 
for  the  position  of  companion  to  my  beloved 
Madam  of  The  Ivies. 


THE  END. 


266 


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_       000030280     2 


MADAM  OF  THE  MES 


. 
ELIZABETH  PHIPPS  TRAIN 


